


Stitches

by SlaughterOtter



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Experiment, Lab rat, Mako Poisoning (Compilation of FFVII), Seizures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:21:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 62,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25538713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlaughterOtter/pseuds/SlaughterOtter
Summary: Nobody grows up dreaming of becoming a glorified torturer in a lab coat, but here you are, hands buried to your wrists in some poor experiment's guts. Cloud and Zack's time in Hojo's lab as told from the perspective of an employee who only ever wanted to become a doctor. A companion piece to Losing Cohesion.
Comments: 138
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! I want to get some content warnings out of the way. This story contains gore, violence, alcohol abuse, suicide, animal abuse, non-graphic mentions of sexual harassment and assault, and a description of harm against an infant (although this occurs in a dream sequence if that makes a difference for you). This may not be the darkest fic you'll ever read, but I just want to make sure you all know what you're signing up for by continuing to read!
> 
> Enjoy!

It's easy to lose yourself in medical school. Three years, eight years, twelve years pass, and you're approaching your late-thirties with little to show but dark circles under your eyes, hunched shoulders, and _thousands and thousands_ of gil in debt. After graduation, the plan was to rejoin your family in your small hometown thirty minutes east of Mideel, but your hometown already has a doctor. Even if the spot were open, it wouldn't pay enough to let you crawl out of debt before you turn one hundred. Still, disappointment tugs at your heart as you steer your job hunt to other communities. Perhaps the clinic in Mideel is hiring.

But it turns out that the clinic in Mideel is not hiring. The town has exceptionally healthy residents (quite possibly due to its hot springs), and no additional doctors are needed. So you broaden your search and accept that your dreams of returning home to be close to family must be put on hold for an indefinite stretch of time. Your family is disappointed too, you know. Your dad jokes that he could orchestrate something to hurry your town's current doctor into retirement, and you mom tells you that you could always help your sister on the farm while you wait for a local opportunity to appear…but you want _so desperately_ to be in the medical field that you turn her down. It's been your dream since childhood and, besides, you didn't just spend twelve years in medical school to farm.

You send out applications to hospitals in Gongaga, Junon, Kalm, and, because you're really desperate, Nibelheim. When you can barely scrape together enough gil to make your next student loan payment, you start looking for work outside patient care, even putting in an application to Shinra's Science Research Division. It's no hospital, but they are looking for someone with a medical background, and a job is a job, right? Gongaga, Kalm, and Nibelheim kindly reject you, but Junon extends a tentative offer, contingent on you working for a lower fee than usual, given that you're just out of school. Your brain scrambles to calculate if you could survive on the salary they're offering, and your throat closes, and tears blur your vision when you realize that you would _still_ have to work a second job. But no other jobs have responded, and you need a paycheck _now_.

So you pack your three boxes of belongings and your houseplant that's refused to die despite infrequent waterings, and say goodbye to your family. Your mother throws her arms around your shoulders, your father squeezes your hand firmly, and your sister waves good-bye with dirt-stained fingers. You catch a bus to Mideel, a ferry to the continent, and rent a car to carry you to Junon. You're feeding the last of your dented gil into a mako pump just north of Fort Condor when your phone buzzes in your pocket. The cracked screen is rough under your thumb as you swipe to answer the call, dropping a few precious gil in the process.

"Yeah?" you answer irritably.

"Good morning, I am calling on behalf Shinra's Science and Research Division." a courteous woman's voice responds. "We reviewed your application and are very impressed. We would like to interview you, face-to-face, and offer you a position within the Shinra Science Research Division should everything go well."

You immediately feel chagrinned by your irritated greeting. Then you wonder why you're concerned about upsetting this woman when…

"I'm sorry, but I have already accepted a position elsewhere." you say, your tone much more professional than it was a moment ago. "Thank you for your consideration, though."

"Perhaps learning about salary and benefits Shinra can provide might encourage you to reconsider." the associate interjects smoothly. It's a good thing that she can't see you through the phone, because your jaw nearly hits the ground. The salary is quadruple what the hospital in Junon offered you. You thank her, schedule a time to meet, and then call the Junon Hospital to inform them that they will need to find another applicant. When the highway splits and you can either turn west towards Junon or north towards Midgar, you keep your car pointed north.

Midgar is just as much of a sensory overload as you remember. You park your car in a garage between the Slums and the Plate and sleep in it, your head nestled awkwardly on your three boxes of belongings, your legs hooked uncomfortably around your houseplant. Metal beams groan and mako lights hum throughout the night: Midgar's metropolitan lullaby.

The next morning, you walk into a cafe and act like you're waiting for a friend before ordering, but then duck into the bathroom when the barista turns his back. You brush your teeth in the sink, splash water on your face, and hope that the lighting in the Shinra Building is kind to the ever-darkening circles under your eyes.

You have never felt so small as when you enter the Shinra Building. Everything about the building screams power, wealth, and control. Your scuffed shoes are too worn to make even the tiniest squeak on the highly polished floors. Energetic, well-groomed, Shinra employees bustle around you with purpose. You hope that no one notices the wrinkles in your outfit from having slept in your car.

The interview takes place on the sixty-fifth floor in a small, dingy room that is the antithesis of the extravagant lobby below. There are two other people in the room, but you can only clearly see the associate who called you yesterday. The other person sits in the corner, their features obscured by shadows. Their glasses, however, catch the sparse light and shine like a predator's eyes in the darkness.

The interview goes well, although it's not what you expected. They don't seem to care much about your credentials, what you studied, where you spent your residency, or your technical skills.

"We have all of that from your records." the associate assures you when you ask.

Instead, they ask whether or not you can keep secrets. Can you handle the sight of blood? How much blood? A lot? Good.

They want to know where you see yourself in five years. Married? With kids? No? Excellent. Can you handle long periods of isolation? Can you follow orders without question? Would you let your own ethics get in the way of science? And yes, all experiments are approved by the Shinra Ethics Committee, don't worry.

The questions catch you off guard, but you respond with answers that you hope the interviewers want to hear. The salary and benefits Shinra offers are fresh in your mind and you are desperate to get this job. You did the math last night and realized that this salary could pay off your debt in _two years_.

You continue to answer their questions, "No, working with severe injuries does not bother me. Yes, I can tolerate the smell of mako. No, I don't mind long hours. Yes, I value keeping my work life private."

"Where does your family live?" catches you even more off guard, so you stutter when you tell them the name of your small community. The associate marks it in her notes. "Are you close to them?"

What was the correct answer here?

"I haven't lived with them in twelve years." you answer honestly. For some reason, instinct is telling you to not mention the week-long stretches between semesters that you spent with them during holidays, eating, laughing, and singing together as one. You fail to mention the picture of them sitting in your wallet too, worn from years of looking at it every time homesickness shoots through you.

Your answer appears to satisfy the associate. Her pen scratches against the paper as she writes your response down.

"Well then," she says with a toothy smile. "That's all we need from you. You should hear from us within the next few business days."

You wait for the compulsory "Do you have any questions for us?" but it doesn't come. The associate shuts her notebook and begins to stand. You're halfway to your feet as well when the quiet figure in the corner leans forward out of the shadows. An involuntary shudder crosses your skin as the light reveals his greasy hair, pock-marked skin, and aura of wrongness that surrounds him.

"I have one final question." he says, his voice surprisingly soft. He looks up at you, but you can't see his eyes behind the steely glint of his glasses. "Do you have any qualms about live experimentation?"

"…what do you mean?"

"I mean what I said. Do you have any qualms about experimenting on live subjects?"

The word _yes_ gets stuck behind your teeth. Although not explicitly stated, you know if you answer _yes_ , you'll lose this job. You're stuck. You've already thrown away your other option in Junon. Your bank account is in the single digits. This is your last chance, your only option. You square your shoulders, straighten your back, and respond with a resolute "No."

The man nods, and a slow, hideous smile crawls over his face. "Very well," he says. "You're hired."

"Professor Hojo?" the associate asks.

"You heard me." Professor Hojo says. He stands and exits the room, calling over his shoulder, "I expect you in the lab first thing tomorrow."

You stay with the associate to sign the necessary paperwork - a veritable mountain of it that would have taken days to read through if the associate didn't rush you through. Most importantly, you give her your bank account information. Shinra immediately deposits 1,000 gil into your account as a welcoming gesture. You get tears in your eyes when your phone gets the notification that the transfer went through.

You get yourself a hotel room that night, so you stop by your rental car and grab your toothbrush, pajamas, and tomorrow's work clothes. After a moment's thought, you grab your houseplant too. It looks like it could use some water.

It's not until you step out of a steaming shower, dry yourself with a plush, white towel, and settle onto your bed to flip through channels before sleep that Hojo's words come back to you. _Live experimentation._

The hell does that mean?

You try to stay focused on the t.v., some show about people surviving alone in the wild, but the words slip and slide around your stomach like rancid cream.

_Live experimentation_.

What, like on animals? Monsters? Then…sure, why not? You cut open plenty of animals during medical school, learning how to steady your hands while holding a scalpel. Then again, those animals were already dead. Could you do it to a live creature?

You shake yourself, laughing lightly. Live experimentation doesn't have to mean cutting something up. It could also be an observational study. Medicine trials. Behavioral manipulation. There's no reason for your brain to run away with the ludicrous idea that you've just signed up to become an "evil scientist."

But the strange interview questions cling like fog to your mind.

_Can you tolerate excessive amounts of blood? If your supervisor asked you to do something that you don't personally agree with, would you put your own feelings aside to accomplish the task at hand? Do you have any qualms against live experimentation?_

You turn off the t.v. and lay down heavily on your pillow. Unease eats moth holes in your chest. You place a palm against your heart, hoping to calm your nerves. _It's just normal new-job jitters._ _And, after all,_ you remind yourself, _if it's not a good fit, I can always leave_.

You show up the next morning bright and early at the Shinra Building. The lobby is just as intimidating as it was yesterday, except today you have a bright, new, Shinra employee badge to show that you now belong at the company, despite your scuffed shoes.

The elevator is jam-packed with other chattering employees, surprisingly chipper for the early hour. Perhaps the free coffee bar on the third floor has something to do with that. People filter out of the elevator as it ascends until it's just you who reaches the sixty-fifth floor. When you exit the elevator, antiseptic, mako, and something metallic hit your nose with such force that your eyes water.

There is no welcoming committee waiting for you. You wander down an empty hallway to the room where your interview took place less than twenty-four hours ago. That room is now deserted, but just a bit farther down the hall you see a shadow flit from an open doorway. You enter the room after a hesitant knock. "Professor Hojo?"

"Hmm?" He turns to face you. He's wiping his hands on a stained cloth. There are rust-colored flecks on his white coat. "Oh, it's you." he says as though he forgot you were coming. "I need you to clean up Station E in Room 12. The cleaning supplies are in the closet."

He's out of the room before you could ask for more direction or remind him that you are a _doctor_ , not a custodian. But you need this job, so you chant your salary in your head as you grab the cleaning supplies.

Since Hojo neglected to give you a full tour of the lab, it takes half an hour to find the correct room and station. But once you find the station, there is no missing it.

You understand immediately why the interviewer asked if you can tolerate large quantities of blood. The table, waist-high, metallic, and covered with restraints, is coated in a coagulated pool of it. The cloth partitions that separate Station E from Stations D and F are decorated with crimson splatters, some in borderline-impossible locations. _What could make blood spray that way?!_ Something sticky squelches under your feet

It takes you a solid minute of gaping before you're able to unglue your feet from the ground and get to work. _Live experimentation._ On _what_ exactly? What is big enough to leave behind that much blood? Your mind supplies the answer, _humans_ , but before the full impact of that possibility can take hold in your psyche, you see tufts of fur scattered across the table and floor. You release a breath you didn't know you were holding. It had been an animal after all. A really big animal. You feel bad for it, of course, but you're relieved it wasn't a human.

It takes three hours to clean and sanitize Station E. There is nothing to be done about the cloth partitions. They're stained beyond repair. You stumble while carrying the bucket of the now-red-tinted cleaning solution to the sink, and the liquid slops over its side and onto your scuffed shoes. The worn, soft leather eagerly drinks it in. It's definitely time for new shoes.

You find Hojo at a computer and let him know you're finished. The words are barely out of your mouth when he snaps "Come here."

You take a seat next to him and he shoves a thick stack of spreadsheets in front of you. "Enter these into the computer. I don't have time for such tedious work."

And, again, he's gone before you can remind him that you are a _doctor_ , not some college intern. Then you remember that you are being paid quite a great deal of money, so you scoot your chair over to the computer and take a look at the spreadsheets. They're ancient; handwritten in loose, spiked script that is near-impossible to decipher. You squint your eyes and crane your neck, your body settling into a familiar posture learned during countless hours of study. The notes are gibberish to you, written in a shorthand that you have yet to learn, but Hojo already has the spreadsheet on the computer labeled, so all you have to do is enter numbers, P for positive, N for negative, and the occasional asterisk denoting an anomaly. It's brainless, mind-numbing work, but the smell of blood and bleach wafting up from your damp shoes reminds you that it might be a good thing you'll be stuck behind a desk for the remainder of the day.

Hojo still isn't around when the clock strikes five. You mark your spot in the spreadsheets and unfold yourself from your hunched perch at the computer. You're getting quite good at navigating the lab's twisting, crisscrossed corridors, so you're confident that you'll find Hojo to ask him if you can leave. You catch a glimpse of another employee in a lab coat; the first coworker you've spotted all day.

"Hi, I'm-" you start to introduce yourself, but he cuts you off.

"Yes, the new hire. I'm Joe. Good to meet you." he says shaking your hand, but his tone implies it's anything but good to meet you. You notice that the sleeves of his lab coat are tinted red too. Maybe he also had a Station E to clean up somewhere. "So this means they are expanding the program…damn…"

When it becomes clear that he's not going to elaborate, you say, "I'm looking for Professor Hojo, do you know whe-"

"No." Joe cuts ou off again. "Although, if I had to guess, I'd say he's with some new live ones, fresh from the Slums."Abject horror must have flashed across your face, because Joe quickly adds, "Monsters, I mean. The Slums are full of them. Although…" he looks as though he's wrestling with an internal dilemma. "Actually, never mind. You go home, get some rest. You have to be tired after your first day. I'll finish these up for you." He takes the stack of spreadsheets from your arms.

You thank Joe and leave the lab. You pick up a new pair of shoes on your way back to the hotel. You book three more nights and resolve to find an apartment over the weekend. You have just enough energy to stuff a bag of chips into your face and to call your family to let them know that you survived your first day of work before you fall sideways onto your pillow and fall asleep. Your dreams twist through blood-splattered rooms lined up like spreadsheets in neat columns and rows.

Despite the strange dreams, you're pleased to note that the dark circles under your eyes look lighter than yesterday. Your shiny, new shoes also offer a confidence boost as you stride into Shinra. This might not be the job you were expecting, or even hoping for, but there is a certain thrill of being part of this grand, progressive company. At a medical clinic, you might have changed a few lives. At Shinra, you might change the world!

Those lofty thoughts are driven from your head when you step out of the elevator on the sixty-fifth floor and come face-to-face with a livid Hojo.

"Is there any reason why you left without finishing those spreadsheets?!"

You fumble with your words. "Sir, Joe said that he would fi-"

"I needed these _this morning_." Hojo hisses between clenched teeth, seeming not to have heard you.

Your skin grows hot. "I'm sorry, I didn't kno-"

"I didn't think something so _obvious_ needed stating. Because of _you_ , I'm going to look unprepared for today's board meeting."

"I'm sor-"

"Finish them by five, or you're fired."

Resentment rises in your throat, but you swallow it. How could you have known the spreadsheets needed to be done this morning when he didn't tell you?! Rather than call him out on poor leadership, you merely duck your head and mutter, "Sir."

Your fingers fly faster than ever over your keyboard. You skip lunch and refuse water all day so you won't need bathroom breaks. You spot Joe out of the corner of your eye, and although you want to curse at him for tricking you, you stick to the task at hand. Finally, at 4:13 PM, you track down Hojo to let him know that the spreadsheets are ready. Your mouth is dry and your eyes are strained, but you don't care so long as you can keep this salary.

You find Hojo back at Station E. His back is to you when you enter, concealing whatever he's examining on the table. There are fresh blood splatters on the cloth partitions. A chill runs up your spine.

"Professor Hojo?" you call uneasily from the doorway. "The spreadsheets are done."

"Good, good." he hums absentmindedly. You hear pained, labored breathing from whatever's hiding behind him on the table. _Gods…_ Despite mopping up a pool of blood yesterday, you realize that, until this point, you have been in denial about the true nature of the job you signed up for. That's a _living_ creature on that table, one that is in pain. You feel stupid for ever trying to reason that live experimentation could mean anything other than what your gut knew was true.

"Will that be all…?" you ask, desperately hoping he'll let you go for the evening and not ask you to join him. Hoping isn't enough.

"Come here." Hojo directs.

Your heart sinks. You really don't want to see what's on the operating table. You force your feet forward anyways.

It's a Shinra guard dog. It's shaking violently from fear, pain, or most likely both, but restraints hold it nearly immobile on the table. A tight, metal band seals its muzzle shut, but it does nothing to silence its agonized whimpers. There's a square half-foot of skin peeled back on its abdomen, granting you a window into its writhing insides.

"Hold these." Hojo says, indicating to the forceps he has clenched around white, sinewy tissue.

You hesitate. You don't have gloves on.

_"Take them,"_ Hojo hisses. You do. The handles are slippery with blood.

Hojo buries his hands up to his wrists in the dog's chest cavity. The dog howls between wired-shut jaws. It jerks and strains against its bindings to no avail. Your stomach clenches. _Is this really you? Are you really participating in this?_ Yes, it is you. You see _your_ hands clenched around the forceps, you feel the dog's hot blood on _your_ skin, the meaty odor of the dog's insides passes through _your_ nose.

_What the hell are you doing here?_

One of Hojo's hands emerges from the dog to grab a syringe of bright, blue mako from the surgical tray nearby. He expertly guides it into the dog's chest and plunges it into the dog's heart, which you can see beating fiercely through its ribcage. The dog utters another earsplitting yelp as Hojo depresses the plunger of the syringe. You can see the mako spread through the dog's veins by tracing its luminescent glow as it disperses throughout the dog's body. Hojo places the syringe back on the tray and wipes his hands on his lab coat, leaving stains that will be impossible to get out.

"Stitch it up and take it to ward two, cell eight." he says before grabbing his clipboard and furiously scribbling on it.

"…sir."

Your hands are white-knuckled and numb when you unwrap them from the forceps. The dog is panting unsteadily when you reach for the needle and thread.

"Where is the antiseptic?"

"No need." Hojo doesn't even look up from his clipboard. "The mako will take care of any infections."

"What…what about painkillers?"

Hojo pierces you with a cutting look over his glasses. "As I said. No need." There is no room for argument in his voice.

You grit your teeth and stitch the dog up, trying to block out its fading whimpers of pain that accompany every needle-hole you punch through its skin. Eventually the dog settles into a subdued, hazy silence, perhaps finally going into shock. You welcome it, although it's too late: you've already made the final stitch.

Your stitches are neat and even. They were a mark of pride during school. You imagined one day proudly telling your patients that your stitches would barely leave a scar. Now your talent isn't saving anyone, just prolonging the suffering of an unfortunate dog.

Your hands tremble as you scrub them clean in the sink. The blood won't come out from underneath your fingernails. You should have worn gloves.

You unlock the surgical table's wheel-locks and cart the dog down to Ward 2. You pass Joe in the hallway. His eyes flick from you, to the dog on the table, to you once again.

"Welcome to the team." he says emotionlessly.

You don't have a response.

You reach cell eight and swipe your badge to open the door. You cart the dog inside and, after a moment's worry that it might attack you, remove its restraints. Your concerns are unfounded. The beast can't do anything besides lay limply on the table. You try your best to lower it gently to the ground, but its dead weight is too heavy, too awkward, for you to handle, so you end up dropping it. It doesn't even yelp. You pass a gentle hand over its fur before leaving the cell, locking it behind you.

It's now 7:30. You're not asking permission to leave the lab. You're leaving. Damn the consequences.

The journey back to the hotel passes in a blur. It's not until you're halfway there that you realize you're still wearing your blood-splattered lab coat. No wonder you are attracting strange looks. You pull it off right there in the street and stuff it into the nearest trash bin.

You collapse onto the bed as soon as you get back to your room. You turn on the t.v. and set the volume on full-blast to drown out the dog's whimpers still echoing through your mind. Your neighbor bangs angrily on your shared wall, but you don't have it in you to care too much.

The woman who interviewed you said that all experiments are approved by Shinra's Ethics Committee… Does the committee know that Hojo experiments without anesthesia? Do they know that Hojo doesn't offer his subjects painkillers? Even basic antiseptic? There was no way an ethics committee would approve something like that, would they? They must not know. They _could_ not know.

You decide that you're going to file a complaint tomorrow.

You call your mom just to hear her voice, but the conversation is stiff and stilted once she picks up. She asks you what's wrong, and all you can manage to say is that this job isn't what you thought it would be. She sympathizes as much as she can without knowing what you saw _(what you did!)_ today, but encourages you to stick it out. After all, _"Shinra is a great company to work for!"_

When you get to Shinra the following morning, you have every intention of storming up to Shinra's Ethics Committee and whistleblowing the hell out of Hojo. Joe comes across you in the hall, and he must recognize something in your expression, because he stops you and says, "Don't bother."

"What?"

"Filing a complaint. Don't bother."

You're taken aback. "Why?" Your voice hardens. "Afraid they'll come for you too?"

"No." Joe's voice is as dead as his eyes. "They won't come for me. They won't come for Hojo. Listen, you're new here. You have a lot to learn. Hojo _is_ the ethics committee."

The floor falls away beneath your feet.

_"What?!"_

"Yeah, him, Scarlet, and Heidegger, who are the Head of Weapons Development and Head of Public Safety. Their decision-making process is basically _'If it protects or advances the mission of Shinra, then it is ethical._ ' You have no idea what kind of shit they get away with."

"But what about the government…?"

Joe's laugh is like gravel in his throat. "You really have no idea."

He claps you on the shoulder and sets off down the hall, leaving you feeling lost in a world you just realized you barely understand.

There's a new lab coat waiting by your locker, as if Shinra knew you threw the old one away. You stand there for five, ten, thirty minutes wrestling with whether or not you could bear to pull it on. Hojo _is_ the ethics committee. Shinra _knows_ what Hojo is doing…and they're letting it happen. They're _funding_ it to happen.

And you've signed on to make it happen too.

The thought that you should quit crosses your mind, and you instantly know that that would be the right _and_ wrong thing to do. Right because it would let you keep your soul, wrong because losing this salary would ruin you.

_It's just a dog,_ you chant to yourself. _It's just a dog._

Selling your soul for profit…you heard children's stories about that while growing up. You're pretty sure the moral of the stories was _not_ to do that. And yet…here you are.

_It's just a dog._

Your phone dings. It's a low-funds notification from your bank. 1,000 gil doesn't go far in Midgar.

Two years. If you could swallow your revulsion for two years, just two, measly years, you could pay off your debt. Then you can go somewhere else, anywhere else, far away. _It's just a dog._ With a company like Shinra on your resume, you could go anywhere. _It's just a dog_. Two years is all it would take. _It's just a dog._ You pull on your lab coat and pretend it's armor.

Joe eyes you with disappointment when he sees you wearing it.

And so it goes. Days turn into weeks, weeks to months, months to a full year. You enter data, write reports, and clean lab equipment. You restrain animals and monsters, cut their flesh, and ignore their howls of pain. Blood splatter is now a normal part of your attire. Numbness is a normal part of your state of being. Joe, having accepted that you are there to stay, does his best to teach you how to retain your sanity while working for Hojo. He's managed to last five years and outlive two of his coworkers: Sarah who died in a preventable lab accident, and Bill who committed suicide when the job became too much. Joe stresses to you the importance of routines and rituals, both when you enter and exit the lab. "Draw a clear line between who you are in here and who you are out there, and _never_ let those two people meet." he warns you. You try your best, but your work follows you home and haunts your sleep.

Joe never apologizes for trying to get you fired, but after a few months in Hojo's lab, you understand why he tried. He tries the same trick with a new recruit, Clark, who joins a year after you do. It doesn't work. You keep your distance from your other coworker, Julia. There's a coldness in her eyes that discourages anyone from approaching her, and you're happy to oblige.

It's hard to justify feeling sorry for yourself when you're the one wielding the scalpel, not the one being cut by it, but you _are_ suffering. Every day brings a new atrocity that you're forced to assimilate into your definition of normal by the following day. Yelps of pain from dogs cease to bother you, shrieks from monsters even less so.

Or so you tell yourself.

You learn Shinra secrets. You learn that the procedure for creating new SOLDIERs utilizes the paradox of mako, enhancing healing, strength, and vitality, but a great, and often fatal, cost. You read about Project-S, the experiment that created Sephiroth (yes, _the Sephiroth),_ which makes you physically ill to learn about, but helps you understand why Sephiroth visits the lab monthly. He wears a pained expression like he would rather be anywhere else and leaves as soon as Hojo finishes collecting a few vials of blood from him. You learn about a being called J-E-N-O-V-A, who can supposedly lead mako-hungry Shinra to the mako-rich Promised Land, if only they could communicate with Her. You learn that, despite Sephiroth's prodigal strength, agility, and endurance, he is a failure in this regard. Despite being injected with her cells, he can't communicate with Her. Hojo hasn't stopped trying, though.

You keep your nose to your work, so you barely know what's happening in the broader realm of Shinra. It therefore comes as a surprise to you when the Shinra Building comes under attack by the ex-SOLDIER deserter, Genesis. The lab is swarmed by a small platoon of identical warriors: Genesis copies. You take shelter under a desk, hoping they'll leave you be. They don't. You watch the copy's sword swing up and come down for the killing blow. Time stands still and you realize that you are about to die.

The blow is parried by a fast-moving blur. Blood sprays across your face and the Genesis copy crumples to the ground.

"You good?" a friendly voice asks you. Mako eyes that seem too kind to have just cut down a man meet yours, and you realize that you're looking at SOLDIER First Class, Zack Fair. Sure, you keep your nose in your own business, but _everyone_ knows who the First Class SOLDIERS are.

Your heart is still racing in your chest and your brain is still processing the fact that you did _not_ just die a few seconds ago, so it takes you a moment to find your voice. "Umm…yeah. I'm fine."

Zack Fair beams at you. You suddenly feel like the sun is shining, even though you're in the middle of a windowless, concrete room at night. "Great!" he says. "Stay here, okay? Back-up is on the way. I gotta go protect the professor now. See ya!" And he's gone.

The Genesis copies end up being driven from Shinra Tower, and the only thing that changes for you is that Zack Fair greets in you in the hallway now.

Joe, on the other hand, vanishes from the lab without a trace. You ask around, but everyone is tight-lipped. You're forced to conclude that Joe finally had enough and quit. Or…

No. You don't want to think about that.

One day you wake up and realize you only have six more payments left on your student loans. Six months. You can do this.

Your family keeps in close contact despite you feeling more withdrawn than ever. Your sister has met someone and they've started a life together. Your mom calls every day, your dad every week. He sounds more and more tired each time you answer the phone. Your mom confides in you that he's been sleeping more and eating less. He refuses to see a doctor. _"Can't you come home next week to take a look at him? You are one, after all."_

You refrain from mentioning that you're a glorified torturer rather than a doctor now, and let her know that you will be there this weekend.

You give your houseplant, still alive after all this time, some water to help it through the weekend and board a high-speed train that takes you from Midgar to Fort Condor. From there, you catch the ferry to Mideel, and then a bus to your home village. It's just past midnight when you arrive, but the lights of your parents' house are on and you see their silhouettes against the kitchen curtains. You're home.

The weekend passes like all weekends back home do, in a pleasant, comforting blur…mostly.

Your dad gives you grief for wanting to examine him, but after some gentle pressure from your mom and pleading from your sister, he relents.

You can't make a definite diagnosis without a lab, but you are able to learn enough to know that it's serious. You take blood samples and pack them away in your briefcase, promising to review them in the lab first thing Monday. Sunday afternoon, you hug them all goodbye. Your mom reminds you to be safe, your dad asks you to text him when you get back to Midgar, and your sister gives you a box of vegetables from her farm to get you through the week.

Again, it's after midnight by the time you take the bus, ferry, and train back to Midgar, so you slide into bed without even changing, text your dad, and set your alarm for 7 AM. You close your eyes, and, after what feels like seconds, it's blasting in your ear.

You get just enough caffeine in you to remember to grab the briefcase with your dad's blood before leaving your apartment for Shinra's headquarters. You run your dad's labs in between assisting Hojo with stress tests ( _torture_ ), sample collection ( _dissection_ ), and behavioral manipulation ( _psychological trauma_ ). You wish you could say it still really bothered you, but over time, it just has become a part of the job. You think of your sister, a farmer, whose hands bring life to seeds and, by extension, people. You were supposed to bring life to people. You were supposed to help them. But now your hands are slick with blood as you lift the still-beating heart from the chest of an abomination created deep in Hojo's lab. It's too inhuman, or perhaps too far gone, to scream as you severe the veins, sinew, and muscle that connects its heart to its body. It dies quietly on the table, its body slowly returning to the lifestream, as you drop the heart into a mako bath, designed to prevent the organ from returning to the lifestream by tricking it into already believing it has.

Hojo turns his back to you to study the newly deceased heart, so you turn your back on him to go check on your dad's labs.

They're not good.

"Hey, can you hear me?" you ask your mom. The reception inside Shinra tower could be weak at times.

"Yes, yes. What is it? Did you find anything?"

"He needs to go in for an MRI." you say. Then, quickly before you can overthink the impact your words will have, you blurt out, "I think it's cancer."

There's silence on the other end of the phone.

"I'm sorry." you say around the lump in your throat. "…but, it's impossible to tell until he… I did the best I could without… Things might be fine." Your voice cracks on that last word.

"I'll take him in for an MRI." your mom says finally. "Even if I have to tie him up and drag him."

The phone clicks silent. This is the first time your mom has hung up on you without telling you that she loves you.

You try your best to go back to work.

A week later, the results are in. It is cancer. Pancreatic. Advanced stage. Very little to be done. We're very sorry.

But you work for Shinra, and you've learned what it's like to not take no for an answer.

You ask around the various medical research labs in Shinra trying to find a lead, any lead, on treatments that might cure your father. There is a department focused exclusively on medical advancements, which seems like a more practical and helpful pursuit than Hojo's genetic modification. You get in contact with the senior scientist of that department and plead for help. She agrees, but tells you it will be costly. Your eyes widen as she writes down the six, nearly _seven_ , figures the treatment will cost. Even with insurance, the cost will be exuberantly high. There's no way your mom, a retired teacher, your dad, a retired grocer, or your sister, a farmer, would be able to afford the treatment.

But you are a Shinra scientist, earning close to six figures a year. Finances would be tight, and you would have to go back to making minimum payments on your student loans, but if it can save your dad…

If it can save your dad, it will be worth it.

You put your family in contact with the senior scientist and encourage your mom and dad to move to Midgar as soon as possible. The apartment next to yours just became available for rent, so you secure it for them. They're there within the week, leaving your sister behind to tend to the farm. You try to take them out to show them the best of what Midgar has to offer, but your dad tires easily and wants to sleep on the couch all day.

Your parents are both suitably impressed when you bring them to the Shinra Building for the first time. They _ooo_ and _ahh_ at the polished floors, expensive lighting, and elegant decorating. You don't have the heart to tell them that the gilded lobby was merely a thin veneer masking a rotten interior.

Your dad's treatments begin, but it's looking grim. It's possible the cancer already has too strong of a hold on him, but then…

He starts going on morning walks. Then runs. Within two months, his appetite and energy have fully recovered. He says he's no longer in pain, on the contrary, he feels the best he's ever felt. The treatment is an outstanding success. Your dad went from having weeks to years.

"See?" your dad grouches playfully. "Told you I wasn't sick."

However, the doctors warn you that stopping the treatment, even for a short period of time, would allow the cancer to come back in full force. Your dad would require ongoing treatment for life. Luckily, he's able to switch to pills and powders and would only need to visit the Midgar clinic once a month. In other words, he is free to return home.

It's bittersweet, watching your parents pack up to leave. You long to follow them, but you know that your Shinra salary is the only thing keeping your dad alive. It looks like you won't be leaving Professor Hojo's lab after all. The thought puts a cold pit in your stomach.

That cold pit persists over the next few months but is somewhat alleviated when your sister calls to tell you that she's pregnant. You begin to carry the image of your father holding his grandchild for the first time in your mind to block out the daily images of torture you witness.

This image doesn't do much to lessen the grief you feel when the day that would have been your last day arrives. You go to the bar that night to drink yourself numb and pay for it the next day under harsh, fluorescent lights.

But your dad is happy, alive, and thriving, so you swallow your pain and keep at it. The spring turns to summer, which turns to fall. Your sister's due date is approaching. She sends you pictures of her swelling stomach every week, and she begs you to come out and be there when the baby is born. You agree and put in a request for time off…but then plans change.

They change because there has been a fire in Nibelheim.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! Three cheers for an early update! I am having such a blast with this fic. I've always been a sucker for Hojo and his lab, and I was blown away by the remake's version of Hojo. He was perfect. I re-uploaded chapter one to correct a few typos (no matter how many times I proofread, a few always slip through the cracks!) and now here is chapter two! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or left a favorite/kudos. You all keep me going. I hope you like chapter two!

There has been a fire in Nibelheim.

The call wakes you up at 4 AM. It's Hojo.

"…'lo?" you answer, still half asleep.

"Lab. Now." _Click._

You groan into your pillow before forcing your stiff body out of bed. You pull on your clothes, brush your teeth, and head out the door. You're halfway to the lab when you realize you put your shirt on inside out. Shinra's free coffee bar isn't open yet, so you go straight to the sixty-fifth floor.

Hojo is in a state you've never seen him in before. He's pacing furiously around the lab, grabbing papers seemingly at random and throwing them haphazardly into a briefcase. You can hear his teeth gnash together from across the room and fistfuls of long, stringy, black hair fall to the floor as he pulls it loose. You spot Clark and Julia tucked in the corner to keep out of Hojo's way. It brings you some consolation that Clark's shirt is _also_ inside out. Julia is sipping coffee from a mug she must have brought from home. Ugh. Why didn't you think of that?

Hojo finally notices that you've entered the room. "Took you long enough." he sneers. "Now that you're all finally here, listen. We're relocating to Nibelheim. I'm leaving now. You will join me tomorrow. You'll be given a memo on the flight over with the details. In the meantime, pack up everything on this list." He thrusts a small stack of papers into your arms.

Neither you, Clark, nor Julia move. You think they're also still trying to process the fact that you're being asked to move continents tomorrow.

"…how long will we be in Nibelheim?" Clark asks.

"Indefinitely. Now _get packing._ "

You all snap to action. You wrap delicate glassware, package syringes, and box machinery, all the while thinking with a heavy heart about the call you will have to make to your sister to let her know that you won't be able to make it home to be there when her baby is born.

Before Hojo leaves, he calls you, Clark, and Julia together to inform you that you are forbidden from telling anyone that you're going to Nibelheim. He doesn't offer an explanation but promises that you will be beyond sorry if anything slips.

This makes it even more difficult to explain to your family that you're not coming home.

"But _where_ are they sending you?" your mom asks for the seventh time.

"I can't tell you." you repeat. "I am so, _so_ sorry."

"And they're not even telling you how long you're going to be out of town?" your dad asks incredulously.

"No, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," your sister reassures you. "We know you do what you have to do."

You want to tell her that you wish you didn't have to, but your dad is listening and you don't want to put any guilt on him for being the reason why you can't lose this job. But you can't think of anything else to say and a lump is rapidly forming in your throat, so you tell them that you love them and hang up.

You ask your landlord to find a sublease for your apartment and give your perishable food to your neighbor. One packed suitcase later, you are ready to go. Almost, at least. You turn back at the last second to grab your houseplant. You can't bring yourself to leave it behind.

It takes a full day to get to Nibelheim. The mountains are treacherous to cross, even by air, and the turbulence is so bad in areas that you're sure the helicopter will go down. Soil from your houseplant bounces out of the pot and onto the floor. Julia frowns at you. You ignore her and turn your attention to the document titled "The Nibelheim Incident."

_Holy…_

Sephiroth, the pride of Shinra, decimated the entire village of Nibelheim. Sephiroth, Hojo's greatest triumph, is dead.

You think back to Sephiroth's visits to the lab. You try to find a memory, any memory, that would link the man you knew then to the man who murdered dozens of innocents. You remember being intimidated by him, but that was mostly because of his reputation, not because he ever threatened you personally. No…from what you remember, Sephiroth had always been polite. Distant, but polite…

So why did he burn down a village?

There's a small footnote written in Hojo's spiky script. It reads _"Proximity to J-E-N-O-V-A…?"_

Towards the end of the memo, you read that Zack Fair was killed in action. A twinge of sadness hits your heart at the news. He had been so kind. A handful of unnamed infantrymen are also listed among the casualties. No survivors are reported from Nibelheim.

You eventually land on the slopes of the Nibel Mountains, which is when your mom texts you a photo of your exhausted, but proud sister holding the tiny bundle that is your nephew. You send a flood of excited and congratulatory emojis and desperately wish you were there with them instead of at the outskirts of a literal ghost town.

Hojo is waiting at the landing pad with a black, Shinra-issued van. You file into the back of the van and carefully balance your houseplant on your lap. It's looking a little droopy, but you think it will pull through. It's you, Julia, and Clark from the Midgar lab, and two men who introduce themselves as Dom and Barnes. They're not researchers; they're there to provide security and "do the heavy lifting," whatever that means. They're both easily over six feet and carry at least two hundred pounds of burly muscle. Tattoos creep over Dom's shirt collar and down both of his arms. Barnes' hair is cropped close to his head.

The van passes through the burnt-out shell that was Nibelheim. A small team of Shinra personnel swarm the town, clearing away debris. You think you spot the sleek, black uniform of a Turk, but the van turns before you're sure.

"The memo said there are no survivors." Julia mentions. She says this dispassionately, like an entire village being wiped out is nothing consequential. You try to not imagine your own hometown being burnt to ashes, your family, friends, and neighbors reduced to dust.

"That's the official, internal company line, yes." Hojo says from the front. "But between just us, there were."

He lets that statement hang ominously in the air.

The van makes a pass by the Nibelheim mako reactor. It's still operational, but you catch a glimpse of scorch marks by the entrance, a metal door twisted off its hinges.

"Sephiroth really did this…?" Clark asks in a whisper. You remember that he is an admirer of Sephiroth, always trying to catch his eye during lab visits. You feel for him. It must be tough learning that your hero went on a murderous rampage and died.

The Shinra mansion is dull, gray, and shrouded in mist when the van pulls in. You're grateful for the sweater your mom knitted for you from your sister's sheep's wool. There's a heaviness in the air that makes your shoulders sag. Your apartment in Midgar seems like paradise in comparison, even though it smelled of mako and the constant hum of the reactors kept you up at night.

You're told to pick a room and to meet in the lab for a debriefing in an hour. There are at least fifty musty rooms to choose from. You pick one on the third floor, as far away from the lab as possible. When the mist clears, _if_ the mist clears, you will have a stunning view of the Nibel Valley. You set your plant on the windowsill and water it.

The lab is in the basement, accessible either by a ladder that plunges into a labyrinth of catacombs or by a much more practical staircase that winds down from the living room. The entrance can be hidden behind a bookcase, which you find cliché and somewhat ridiculous. After all, who the hell would ever find this mansion, let alone want to break in?

You go downstairs. The oppressive atmosphere shrouding the mansion only grows with every step you take downwards. The ceiling is unusually low, triggering a pang of claustrophobia you didn't know you had. The lighting doesn't help. It's weak, it flickers, and it casts everything in a faint, green glow. The stairs let out in a circular atrium with doors and corridors lining its walls. Directly across from the stairs is a long hallway. You can see the glint of a steel operating table at the far end. The lab. You move towards it. Hojo is waiting for you.

You have just enough time to acknowledge Hojo with a nod before you catch sight of what, or rather _who,_ is behind him. A dull roar floods your ears and your vision narrows to a pinprick until all you can see is Zack Fair, the SOLDIER First Class who is supposed to be dead.

Except he's not.

He's floating in a tank of mako very much alive. His fists pound against the glass and his eyes, which you have only ever known to contain energetic confidence and optimism, are narrowed in pure rage. His teeth are bared in a snarl and his mouth is moving, probably yelling, but the glass swallows the sound. There's a barcode and Shinra logo tattooed just beneath his left collarbone and a collection of scars across his chest. He catches your eye. A flicker of recognition flashes across his face. You hold his gaze, unable to mask the shock and horror in yours. He's mouthing something at you. _"Get us out."_ you read.

Your initial instinct is to bound over to those mako tanks and slam your hand on the "open" button.

…but how can you?

Hojo stands between you and them. Could you expect to get to them before someone stopped you? You don't like your odds against people like Dom and Barnes. And even if you could release them, where would that leave you? Jobless, at best, without the means to fund your father's cancer treatments.

Zack begs you again.

You hate yourself, but you look away.

Your eyes land on a second mako tank. Your knees grow weak when you see that another person, perhaps one of the reportedly "dead" infantrymen, floats in it. He's small, blond, and also tattooed with a barcode and Shinra logo. There's a deep wound on his abdomen that appears to have only just started knitting itself together. His chest heaves irregularly, his hands clawing alternately at his throat and at the glass. He can't breathe the mako as easily as Zack. His fingernails are torn and raw and there are scratch marks coating this neck. You watch him kick himself to the top of the mako tank and press his mouth against the ceiling searching for pockets of air.

You suddenly find that your legs don't want to hold you up. You stagger to a wall and lean heavily against it. Your hearing slowly comes back, like an old radio tuning into a station. You find that Hojo has been speaking this whole time.

"…near-death at the reactor. From reviewing the security camera footage, I learned that TS-2," Hojo points to Zack, "weakened Sephiroth, but it was TS-3," he points to the blond, "who struck the killing blow." Hojo's voice trembles with fury. "It should have been _impossible_ for the likes of a common SOLDIER and some nobody infantryman to defeat Sephiroth."

You privately think that Zack is far from a common SOLDIER, but agree with Hojo's assessment of the blond. You can't imagine TS-3, who is writhing pathetically in mako, wielding any kind of weapon, let alone killing Sephiroth.

"Not only does Sephiroth's death represent a loss of millions of gil of investment for the company, it is also a serious blight on my professional reputation. I _refuse_ to accept that Sephiroth was killed by a couple of low-level _nobodies_. There _must_ be something exceptional about them…even if appearances are deceiving."

Hojo approaches the tanks and points to Zack's scars, ignoring the dull thuds caused by Zack's fists slamming against the glass. "As you can see, TS-2 has all but recovered from his wounds, owing to his prior enhancements as SOLDIER. TS-3's wounds, however, are taking much longer to heal, although their progress has been accelerated somewhat by the mako…which TS-3 has a remarkably weak tolerance for." Hojo pauses to watch TS-3 thrash in his tank with disgust.

"Tomorrow, we will examine TS-2 and TS-3." Hojo hands you, Clark, and Julia packets outlining the procedure. You glance at it and instantly become nauseous. Zack and TS-3 are not in for a good time. "We must investigate every cell in their bodies to learn what made them strong enough to walk away victorious from a battle with Sephiroth. The President is expecting a full report by the end of the week, so we must document everything. We must be _thorough._ Understood?"

Julia mutters "Sir," but you and Clark remain silent. You wonder if his vocal cords are also refusing to work, same as yours.

"I need not remind you that none of this leaves this building." Hojo says. Although his tone is casual, there's an undercurrent of threat in his voice. "The Nibelheim Incident is highly sensitive information that few have the clearance to know. Even fewer are permitted to know the fates of Sephiroth, TS-2, TS-3, and other survivors."

_Other survivors?!_ Your head swivels, anticipating to see more mako tanks with humans lining the walls behind you. There are none. Before you can ask Hojo what he means by "other survivors," he tells you to report to the lab at 7 AM tomorrow, enters his office, and shuts the door behind him.

Julia, Barnes, and Dom immediately leave to go back upstairs, but you and Clark linger for a moment. He catches your eye. You're not sure if he's looking for guidance, reassurance, or just a companion to share his disbelief with. You can't offer him anything.

You don't remember walking back to your room, only sitting down heavily on your bed with your head cradled in your hands. You can't shake the memory of Zack Fair, the man who _saved your life_ suspended in mako, branded by Shinra, You blink and see images of TS-3 choking on mako, nails torn to bleeding stumps as he claws uselessly against the glass.

Humans. You're going to be experimenting on live humans.

Your heart kicks into overdrive and suddenly you can't breathe. Somewhere, there's a wild, high-pitched, ragged sob - _is that you?_ \- and next thing you know you're on the ground, your cheek pressed against the gritty floorboards. Tears stream freely down your face, there's a hard rock in your stomach, and your limbs are numb.

You can't do this. You cannot do this.

Coherent thought returns to you after dark. The sky outside your window shows an amazing constellation of stars you never got to see in Midgar. You still think that you can't do this.

But how are you going to explain to your family that your father will lose his medicine?

_You have to do this._

But how could you face them after cutting into live people?

_You can't do this._

But how could you choose the lives of two strangers over your father's?

_You have to do this._

But how could you condemn two innocents to torture when nature has decided it's your father's time to go?

_You can't do this._

Your phone dings. Your sister has sent you a picture. It's your dad holding your nephew, his first grandchild, for the first time.

You have to do this.

You dry-swallow a sleeping pill and set your alarm for 6 AM.

You enter the lab at 6:52 AM, coffee in hand, but your stomach is too queasy to take it in. Despite the sleeping pill, you slept fitfully during the night, dreaming of your family strapped to operating tables while you eviscerate them alive.

From his tank, Zack glares at you with furious eyes. TS-3 has his hands clamped over his nose and mouth, as if his fingers can lessen the burn of mako flooding his lungs with every breath.

Julia is leaning against an operating table studying Zack and TS-3 indifferently, apparently not at all uncomfortable with the fact that she's looking at two people held in captivity against their will. Clark sidles in after you, the lines under his eyes as deep and dark as your own. Dom and Barnes saunter past you and station themselves against the wall in the corner. Hojo is the last to arrive, although he is still early at 6:59 AM.

There's no morning greeting, no small talk. Hojo gets straight to business. He passes out folders containing information on Zack and TS-3, whose name you learn is Cloud Strife upon opening his file. You wish you hadn't learned his name. It might have been easier to think of him as TS-3. You review the files as a team. Zack Fair is, as you already know, a SOLDIER First Class, and therefore already has mako enhancements. Cloud Strife is, as Hojo puts it, a _nobody_ who couldn't even make SOLDIER _,_ but you should be alert for any anomalies in his cells. He did, after all, kill Sephiroth, so there _must be something_ that sets him apart.

You learn that Zack Fair is eighteen years old. Cloud Strife is sixteen years old. _They're_ _fucking_ _kids_. You swallow bile.

Hojo assigns the team their roles and asks everyone to get started. While you wait in line to wash your hands, you pull up the picture of your dad and nephew on your phone. _This is why you're doing this._ You stare at the picture until it is burned into your mind. _This is why you're doing this._

Hojo asks you to drain the mako tanks. Cloud's knees buckle as the mako supporting him drains into the floor, but Zack, accustomed to mako baths from his time in SOLDIER, remains standing. Cloud vomits raw mako and convulses violently as his body expunges its remnants from his lungs. He lays on his side, chest heaving, as he sucks in his first breaths of air in days. Zack pounds furiously against the glass, looking desperate to rush to Cloud's side.

You glance at Hojo for confirmation. He nods his assent. You release sleeping gas into the mako chambers. Cloud is knocked out almost immediately, but Zack resists for a full minute before succumbing. Hojo scribbles on his clipboard, muttering "Up the concentration…" under his breath. He waves a hand at Barnes and Dom. "Put them on the table." he says.

You turn on the fans that suck the sleeping gas out of the tanks before unlocking the doors. They pop open with a loud hiss and the overwhelmingly repugnant odor of mako fills the room. It's strong enough to make you gag.

Cloud and Zack are dead weight between Dom and Barnes. They dump them on the operating tables and secure them to the table at their wrists, ankles, hips, and foreheads.

Within minutes, the sleeping gas starts to wear off.

Zack is the first to wake.

"The fuck is this?!" His voice is hoarse, but murderous. "Are you crazy?! You can't do this!"

"Cast silence." Hojo says, not even looking up from his clipboard.

_"Fuck you."_ Zack spits. "You _can't do this._ Let us go _now._ "

" _Cast silence._ " Hojo repeats. He glances up to see that no one in the room has moved. "Do you mean to tell me none of you are materia users?" he asks, barely audible over Zack's cursing. "Useless, absolutely useless."

He rifles through a drawer, pulls out a roll of duct tape, and throws it at you. "Make him shut up." he says.

Zack snarls "Just you fucking try," but you barely hear him over the roaring in your ears.

You stare at the duct tape in your hands.

Are you really about to do this?

_Your dad. Your nephew._

You are.

You fumble with the lip of the tape and nearly drop the roll before you're able to tear off a piece.

"Come near me and I'll bite your fucking fingers off." Zack threatens. You can see in his expression that he means it. "I saved your life and this is the thanks I get?"

You glance helplessly around the room, looking for guidance. Hojo, too engrossed in scribbling on his clipboard, doesn't offer any, but Dom steps forward. "Here," he offers with a sinister smile. That smile becomes hard as he takes Zack's face between his massive, tattooed hands and forces Zack's jaw shut. You hear Zack's teeth grind together. "Now try."

You pretend to not notice how much Dom seems to be enjoying this as you press the tape over Zack's face.

"You gotta put on more than that if you want to keep his trap shut." Dom advises with the air of a professional. _Where the hell did Hojo find this guy?_ You layer on more tape until the lower half of Zack's face is covered. You make the mistake of meeting Zack's eyes. They cut daggers into you.

Heart racing, you step away as quickly as possible.

"What, no thank you?" Dom asks after you.

"Thank you." you mutter quietly.

"Yeah, well, that's what I'm here for." he says. He pats Zack's cheek with a little too much force to be friendly. "Someone's gotta keep them in line."

"Yeah, yeah, you're a goddamn hero, Dom." Barnes says. "Now shut up about it."

"Fuck off, Barnes." Dom responds without missing a beat.

A wet cough from the next table over lets you know that Cloud is waking up. He tries to move and stiffens when he realizes he can't. The rise and fall of his chest becomes frantic. His eyes dart from side to side, trying to take stock of his surroundings without being able to move his head.

"Silence him too, while you're at it." Hojo says.

You tear off another piece of duct tape. Cloud's eyes meet yours. He's trying to look strong, but you can see that he's terrified.

_"Don't,"_ he starts, but Dom's hands clamp his jaws shut before he can finish. You press the tape over his mouth. You might be imagining things, but Dom's hands linger for a second too long on Cloud's face and brush through his hair as he pulls his hands away after you're finished gagging him. No one else seems to notice.

Data collection begins. You start with the basics: height, weight, limb length, temperature, blood pressure, and heart rate. You record pupil dilatation response and iris color. Zack's eyes are the intense, mako blue that you associate with all SOLDIERs, but Cloud's are a natural, deep blue, the same color as the deep ocean or the sky at twilight. You know they won't stay that way, though, after a few more mako treatments. You check inside their ears, under their nails, listen to their lungs, and record any abrasions, scars, or birthmarks on their skin. You take a lock of hair, swab of saliva, sliver of skin, fingernail clipping, an eyelash, and several vials of blood.

You try your best to reduce them to their parts. Their skin is just skin. Their hair is just hair. Their blood is just blood.

But you can't. It's Zack's skin. Cloud's hair. Human blood.

And, try as you might, you can't conjure up the mental image of your dad and nephew to remind you why you're doing this.

Zack and Cloud never stop fighting their restraints. They can't talk, but their eyes say everything. They promise to end you if, no, _when_ they break free.

You can't blame them.

Their bodies become rigid with apprehension when Hojo wheels out a tray of scalpels, forceps, clamps, files, scissors, needles, and thread. It's a familiar cue, and your feet automatically carry you to your place across from Hojo, same as you've done hundreds of times before. Except there has always been an animal or monster between you. This time, it's a skinny, scared teenager.

Cloud is the first victim. You're not sure if that's lucky or unlucky for him. It might be good to get things out of the way and not have to endure any anticipation. Actually, no, it's unlucky either way.

Hojo gently takes a scalpel between his spindly fingers and lets it hang in the air above Cloud. Cloud's eyes widen, his pupils narrowing to pinpricks. He is shaking. You hear his teeth chatter behind his gag. He looks so young. He _is_ so young.

"Sir," you say suddenly, surprising yourself. "The subject is still recovering from a life-threatening injury. Is it really such a good idea to-"

"The mako will take care of any complications."

"Shouldn't we sedate hi-"

Hojo silences you with a sharp glance.

_Speak up. Say something. Stop this._

"Sir," you try again, but Hojo interrupts you.

"Would you rather take his place?" he asks.

You keep quiet.

Hojo lowers the scalpel onto Cloud's trembling chest. As the cold metal touches his skin, Cloud inhales sharply through his nose and tugs violently at his restraints. But there's nowhere to go. He's pinned.

_You're such a goddamn coward. You are such a fucking coward._

Hojo lets the blade rest on top of Cloud's skin. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he slowly, luxuriously inhales Cloud's fear. "Let's open you up and see what makes you so special." he croons. "Let's find out how you, a _nobody_ , managed to defeat Sephiroth."

Behind you, a muffled roar tears itself from Zack's throat. You glance over your shoulder to see him fighting harder than ever against his restraints. Blood pools around his wrists and ankles as the cuffs tear open his skin. His eyes are hard, determined, menacing. This seems to amuse Hojo.

"Look how he struggles." Hojo mocks. "No doubt such tenacity is what kept him alive after losing to Sephiroth. How intriguing it will be to learn what secrets he's hiding under his skin too."

Zack growls something that sounds like _"don't touch him"_ but the duct tape swallows his words. His fists clench, his fingernails digging into his palms.

Cloud, scalpel still resting on his chest, is hyperventilating now. Tiny whimpers escape from behind his gag. He's tugging at his restraints, and you know it's only a matter of time before his skin tears and blood drips down his wrists and ankles like Zack's. _He's just a kid._ His eyes dart frantically around the room and land on you. They beg you not to do this.

_Stop this._

But you can't. You don't know how to.

_You monster. You selfish piece of shit._

Hojo presses the blade against Cloud's chest, adding more, more, and more pressure until the razor-thin metal splits Cloud's skin like butter. Cloud howls in _painterror_ as Hojo slowly, ever so slowly, deepens the incision and pulls the blade from Cloud's chest to his hips, making the Y-incision you have only ever seen during autopsies. Hojo is using a harmonic scalpel, one that cauterizes tissue as he goes, so there is surprisingly little blood. It's somehow worse that way.

The stench of burning flesh fills the air.

Your soul dies.

Zack is fighting so fiercely against his restraints that he's managed to loosen the screws that bolt the operating table to the floor. The table shakes ominously, each metallic clang a warning that you are dead should Zack's restraints fail.

Hojo doesn't seem bothered at all. In fact, he looks at Zack and smiles hideously as he finishes the last cut completing the Y-incision.

Cloud's screaming intensifies when Hojo asks you to peel back Cloud's skin and secure it open so he can dive into Cloud's insides. You ask god, any god, to forgive you, and pull back the skin to reveal glistening muscle, flexing in time with Cloud's cries of agony. You look away.

Hojo takes his time peeling apart muscle to reach the organs and delicate tissues underneath. He is precise, methodic, and unbothered by the gut-wrenching screams that continue to claw themselves out of Cloud's throat. Tears stream down Cloud's face, his eyes wide open, but blinded by pain. Hojo seems to anticipate Cloud's twisting and jerking beneath his blade, and moves his knife in time with the motions. He's an expert at dissecting live specimen.

Cold sweat pours down your back. You see everything in perfect clarity and through a fog at the same time. You try to recall the picture of your dad and nephew again. You can't.

Finally, finally, _finally,_ Cloud quiets. With a deep, staggering sigh, his eyes roll to the back of his head. His body goes limp.

Zack also grows quiet, his eyes straining to catch sight of his friend despite the restraints holding his head in place. You can see from his expression that he fears the worst. You would too, if you couldn't see Cloud's heart pumping through his ribcage.

"Specimen TS-3 fell unconscious eight minutes and seven seconds after initial incision." Hojo says, indicating to Julia to take down notes. "Disappointingly average."

Hojo continues to rifle around in Cloud's abdomen, collecting tissue samples, and asking Julia to record this and that, until finally, he rocks back onto his heels and sighs, "Nothing. Absolutely nothing remarkable about this specimen upon initial investigation. Cell analysis may reveal something more, but I doubt it."

He lifts Cloud's eyelid with a bloodied finger. "What makes you so special? Why were you able to defeat Sephiroth?"

Cloud, understandably, doesn't reply.

"No matter." Hojo peels off his bloody gloves, replaces them, and wheels a new tray of surgical equipment to Zack's table. Zack's face is stained with hot, angry tears, his wrists and ankles a raw, bloody pulp from his struggles.

"Stitch up TS-3, record his vitals, and put him in the tank." Hojo instructs you before turning his attention to Zack. Julia replaces you in assisting Hojo with Zack while you stitch Cloud back together. His organs and muscle glisten under the lights. Your stitches are uneven. Messy. You can't stop your hands from shaking. Tears slip from your eyes and into Cloud's open chest. You roughly scrub your forearm against your face to dry them. You didn't even realize you are crying.

It's not long before Zack's screams ring through the stagnant air. You want to go back to a time when you didn't know Zack could make noises like that.

Finally, Cloud is stitched back together. It's all you can do to stumble to a chair before your legs give out underneath you. Your entire body has gone numb, but your heart is pounding violently against your chest. There's not enough air in the room, and the air that is there is contaminated by blood, sweat, and fear. You fumble with your blood-soaked gloves. You can't get them off.

Dom and Barnes undo Cloud's restraints and drag his limp body back to the mako tank. They're none too gentle. Cloud's head smacks against the door with a dull thud as they load him in. Clark must recognize that you're not going to be able to move from the chair you collapsed in anytime soon and takes the initiative to fill Cloud's tank with mako. Cloud's body is carried up from bottom of the tank to float just above the floor, his bare toes brushing the metal grating. The Y-shaped cut on his chest is red, angry, and inflamed.

_Wouldn't it be kinder if he never woke up?_

Zack is still screaming, screaming, screaming… How could he still be awake? _Please…let him pass out soon…_

"SOLDIER mako enhancements have increased TS-2's pain threshold beyond the average human's." Hojo dictates. With a snap, you realize that it's your turn to take notes. Luckily, there's a notepad and pen nearby, so there's no need to risk climbing onto your unsteady legs.

You're glad to have an excuse to keep your eyes focused on something besides the torture unfolding right in front of you. Your pen scratches over the paper capturing Hojo's monologue that he has to shout over Zack's muffled screaming. Clark is still standing by Cloud's mako tank, picking at his nails, looking like he desperately wished he were anywhere else but there. Barnes is scrolling through his phone, indifferent to the torture happening six feet in front of him. Julia is holding open Zack's skin, unfazed. Dom's eyes are locked onto the gore, a smile playing over his face.

Hojo pokes and prods around in Zack's abdomen. You keep your eyes fixed on the paper, but you can still hear the wet slop of organs rubbing against each other. At least Zack finally seems to be tiring, his screams fading to whimpers. His eyes are glassy, tears leaking from the sides onto the table below.

"TS-2 went into shock at twenty minutes and forty-two seconds." Hojo dictates. You copy that down. "Stitch him up." he tells Julia. She stabs the needle into Zack's flesh with cold precision, her stitches infinitely neater and more even than yours. Her hands are not shaking.

Zack's skin is gray, his eyes vacant. You wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't pull through. Mako or not, you have never heard of anyone undergoing a live autopsy before, let alone surviving it.

"There was also nothing outwardly remarkable about this specimen." Hojo complains, throwing his gloves into the trash. "We'll still analyze his cell samples, but again, I don't anticipate much more than typical SOLDIER enhancements."

You pretend like you're still taking notes so you don't have to look at Zack.

"To have had my prized project defeated by two nobodies…" Hojo leans over Zack to stare directly into his hazed eyes. "It's embarrassing. A blight on my record. I'm sure you understand."

Zack stares blankly at the ceiling, catatonic.

Hojo's voice is bitter. "They're asking if it's time to replace me. Imbeciles. I'll show them… I have to prove… I _must_ _create something_ _greater_. …and where else better to start than with those who toppled the greatest?" He runs the back of his hand across Zack's face, wiping away residual tears.

Once Zack is placed back in his mako tank, Barnes is assigned first watch while you begin data entry. Julia preps the samples harvested from Cloud and Zack for analysis, and Clark cleans and sanitizes the bloodied exam tables. Hojo is still muttering under his breath when he shuts himself in his office. Even though there was nothing apparently special about Cloud or Zack, a sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that the professor isn't finished with them yet.

You finish data entry and help Julia store the remaining samples that will be saved for record keeping. Clark wipes down the operating tables one last time, leaving behind stainless steel so pristine that you never would believe blood has ever touched its surface if you didn't witness it happen that morning. Barnes is tucked in the corner, still scrolling through his phone, apparently bored to tears.

Cloud and Zack are motionless in their tanks. Amazingly, their skin has regained some color, and Zack's surgical incisions already appear to be healing. Cloud's is still fresh and raw, but it's clean, at least. They're both awake, but don't have enough energy to do anything besides watch you approach through half-lidded eyes. You meet Cloud's eyes through the glass.

In an instant, you realize you're staring. His eyes on yours feel accusatory. Pleading. You look away. You need to get out of the lab.

You race up the winding staircase, cross the lobby, and sprint to your room. You change into running clothes and burst out of the mansion's front door, not quite sure where you're going, only knowing that you have to _get out_.

Because it's the only path you know, you turn onto the road that leads to the ruins of Nibelheim. Your brisk walk turns into a jog, then a full-out sprint. You push yourself to go faster, _faster_ , to get away from that gray mansion with its suffocating basement and flickering lights and mako air and maniacal scientists and _test subjects who are_ _human beings._

Your lungs are screaming, but at least they're sucking in fresh, mountain air, not mako, your legs are turning to rubber beneath you, but at least you're running free outside, not shoved in a tank barely wider than you are…

You're running blind now, your mind's eye replaying moments from that morning over and over again on an endless repeat.

Your feet pound against the gravel.

_Cloud hyperventilating underneath a scalpel._

Sweat pours down your face.

_Zack's screams echoing off the walls._

Dust flies into your eyes.

_Hot, pulsing tissue underneath your hands._

Your legs finally give outand you go sprawling across the road. Grit and rubble scrape your palms, forearms, knees, and shins. When you slide to a stop, all you can do is lay on your side gasping for air. Blood pounds hotly through your veins. You drop your head onto the gravel and roll onto your back, needing a moment to lay there and recover your senses.

The sky is a stunning painting of blues, golds, pinks, and oranges. It's a sight Cloud and Zack will never see again. You close your eyes to shut it out and you cry.

The sun has set beyond the mountains by the time you drag yourself back to the mansion. It's even more depressing in the twilight. You rinse off, dab salve onto your wounds, and take your dinner back to your room. You pass Julia in the hallway. She ignores you and you ignore her. It's just easier that way.

As you eat, you check your phone. Your sister has sent more pictures of your nephew. Evan, they're calling him. One photo in particular nearly makes you drop your fork. Evan's eyes are the perfect copy of Cloud's.

Your barely existent appetite vanishes in an instant.

You throw the uneaten remnants of your dinner into the trash. You try to reply to your sister, but you can't type anything that doesn't sound hollow and fake. You leave her on read, toss your phone onto the nightstand, and pop two sleeping pills.

You dream of being at home with your family. You're around the dinner table, enjoying a meal with food your sister grew herself. You're all laughing, swapping stories. Your dad is radiant. Evan is there, swaddled in one of your mother's homemade blankets. Your sister asks you to hold him. You take him gently in your arms, marveling at this tiny life your sister made. Evan's Cloud-blue eyes stare up at you.

They accuse you.

You start moving on autopilot. Horrified, you watch your hands place Evan on the table and remove him from his blanket. You grab the carving knife from the ham. Your family is screaming, your sister begging you to stop. You don't. You make the Y-incision, so small on Evan's tiny body. Tears stream down your face. You can't stop.

Evan is the only one who's not screaming. He stares at you, unflinching. _You monster,_ his eyes say. You peel back his skin and find muscle, bone, and organ. The knife grows slippery in your hands. You remove his organs and set them on the table. His stomach on the salad. His liver in the breadbasket. His intestines with the pasta.

Your family is howling as if they are the ones being cut apart. But Evan, eviscerated and bloody, remains silent. His eyes follow you.

He knows what you are.

He knows what you've done.

_Monster._

You wake up violently, drenched in sweat and tangled in your blankets. You barely make it to your trash can before vomiting over last night's dinner.

You sink to your knees, your fingers tangling with your hair. You spit a few times to clear the taste of bile from your mouth, but the bitter taste remains.

The clock reads 3 AM. Four hours before you're due in the lab. There's no way you're going to be able to fall back asleep.

You seal up your bag of vomit and take it to the dumpster out back. The sky is clear and the stars are more radiant than you've ever seen. Yet, they make no impression on you. You feel dead inside.

On an impulse, you pull out your phone and dial your dad.

He picks up on the fifth ring. "…hello?" he answers groggily.

"Hey, dad."

"Why are you calling so early? Is everything okay?" he asks, sounding more alert by the second.

"Yeah," you lie, although your voice breaks as you say it. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just… I just wanted to hear your voice, that's all. How's Evan?"

You hear your dad get out of bed. He must be moving to the kitchen where he won't wake your mom.

"Evan's wonderful." your dad says. There's a note of awe in his voice that you've only heard a few times before, like at your graduation ceremony. "He's a real gem. You're going to love him."

"Yeah…yeah, I bet." you say. "Can't wait."

"Listen…are you sure you're okay? It's not too bad out where you're at, is it?"

You can't bring yourself to lie to him again. You can't bring yourself to say anything at all. The staggering breath you take as you try to compose yourself must tell your dad everything he needs to know, though.

"Hey, I don't know if you need to hear this, but…" he starts hesitantly. "But…I need you to know that you can do whatever you need to make sure you're happy. Okay? _I_ _mean that._ I'll be fine with any decision you make. Your mother and sister will be too. We all just want what's best for you."

You can't help it. You break down then and there, sinking onto the gravel driveway, leaning against the dumpster.

"I'm sorry." you sob into the phone. "I'm so sorry."

"Shhh, shh, it's okay. Really, _it's okay_. I love you. I love you so much. I want you to be happy, okay? _We_ want you to be happy. You've done so much for us. You deserve to do something for yourself too."

It's a long time before you're able to calm yourself enough to tell your dad that you love him and say _sorry_ again all in one breath.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." your dad says. "Do what you need to… I hope to have you back home soon."

As he hangs up, you know it's settled. You're going to trade your dad's life for your own.

It's 4 AM by the time you bring your laptop into the kitchen and start a pot of coffee. The mansion's ancient pipes groan as you turn the water on. You have to let the tap run for a full minute before the rust-tinted water becomes clear. How could a building owned by the wealthiest company on the Planet be so rundown? Clearly the full budget had gone to the lab.

You boot up your computer and start drafting your resignation letter.

You're on your third cup of coffee and fourth draft of your letter when Julia and Clark come down for breakfast. Julia ignores you as usual, but Clark catches your eye and acknowledges you with a nod. He, like you, also seems to have difficulty eating. If anyone notices your red eyes and blotchy face, they don't say anything.

At 6:55, you all file down the stairs and into the lab. Hojo is bent over a computer looking like he hasn't slept at all. Zack and Cloud float silently in their tanks, apparently still exhausted from yesterday. Not too exhausted to glare at you, though.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. This is it. You approach Hojo.

"Sir, a word?" you ask Hojo.

"Later." he says and motions you away.

But you don't want to spend another second longer in that lab than you need to. "No, sir. I need to talk to you now."

Hojo scowls and looks at you like he's seeing you for the first time. He's not used to being challenged. Nevertheless, he motions to his office. You enter and he shuts the door.

He takes a seat behind his desk and slouches back in his chair. "I'm sure there's a very good reason why you are delaying the start of our day."

Your heart hammers against your ribcage, but your mind is made up. You really hope your dad means what he said over the phone. You reach into your pocket and pull out your resignation letter. "I am resigning. Effective immediately."

Hojo's scowl deepens as he takes the letter. "Are you, now?" he asks. He opens the folded paper and pretends to read it. "Any particular reason?"

_I can't participate in human experimentation._

"I want to move back home to be with family." It's a half truth.

"I see." Hojo says. You know he knows the real reason. He steeples his fingers together and smiles. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to deny your request."

This catches you off guard. "Sir…sir, this is not a request. I am leaving."

Hojo laughs. He opens a drawer and reaches in to pull out a file. He rifles through it and pulls out a thick stack of papers.

"Do you recognize this? These are the papers you signed when you agreed to work for me."

"…I remember."

"Did you read through them carefully?"

You think back. That day, so long ago, was a blur. What you remember is the overwhelming relief of signing onto a job that would pay off your student loans. Thinking harder, you remember the recruiting agent hurried you through signing those papers. No…you didn't read through them carefully. You weren't given the chance.

Hojo's smile suggests that no one is ever given the chance to read through them carefully.

"On page thirty-five, section K, paragraph three, you'll find this passage." He highlights it for you in neon blue and hands you the papers.

Your mouth goes dry as you read the highlighted text.

"That's right." Hojo says. "Technically, you _can_ leave. But Shinra will arrest and detain you if you do. You know too many secrets, secrets that could hurt the company should your tongue ever slip. So if you prefer to spend your days in a Shinra cell, then by all means, leave. That's what your colleague, John, or whatever his name was, eventually preferred. But I must warn you that Shinra views keeping prisoners as costly business…just as costly as feeding their guard dogs, in fact." He gives you a pointed look over his glasses as you realize what he's implying with horror. "So I would encourage you to _not_ leave. In fact, I would prefer it if you stayed. We're about to begin some incredibly delicate experiments. I have neither the time nor patience to train a new employee." He stands and makes to exit the room. He claps you on the shoulder as he does so. "Have heart. You're good at what you do."

The door clicks shut behind him.

You remain frozen in your seat. There's a faint ringing in your ears. There's suddenly not enough air in the room. In fact, you're pretty sure there's an invisible pillow being pressed over your mouth and a band of iron around your ribs, suffocating you, you can't breathe, you can't see, you can't think…

You emerge from Hojo's office after your panic attack subsides, eyes bloodshot, nose dripping, skin flushed. You look at Zack and Cloud, at the Shinra logo and barcode tattooed on their skin. You might not be branded, but you feel every bit as owned by Shinra as they are.

So that's where Joe had gone. He finally had enough and quit…only to land in a Shinra cell…probably fed to dogs.

_Gods…_

Could you make the same decision? You were just about to sacrifice your father's life to salvage your soul, after all.

No. You already know that you can't.

_Coward._

You learn in that moment that you are more selfish than you ever knew.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! Welcome to chapter three. Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments on the last chapter. Every single one made me smile from ear to ear! They gave me so much energy. 
> 
> I want to add an updated content warning. This fic will contain non-graphic mentions of sexual harassment and assault. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading! I hope you enjoy chapter three! (Shoutout to the Portal 2 soundtrack for providing me with ample dark-science, ambient music to write to!)

You can't meet anyone's eyes for the rest of the day. You feel humiliated, caged, used. Does Julia know about page thirty-five, section K, paragraph three? Does Clark? You're an idiot for not insisting on reading your full contract. You were so damn naive to have blindly trusted Shinra.

Fortunately, today's work doesn't require you to make eye contact with anyone. You're analyzing Cloud and Zack's cells.

You start with Zack's. Like all SOLDIERs and mako-enhanced creatures, his cells have created an envelope within their membranes for mako storage. The cells' organelles have adapted to utilize mako as efficiently, if not more so, than adenosine triphosphate. The mako becomes self-sustaining when the body begins to convert its own dead cells into new mako energy, utilizing the Planet's energy cycle on a microscopic level. This leads to enhanced strength, speed, stamina, and vitality…for a time. Eventually, the body becomes addicted to mako and begins to destroy healthy cells in order to generate more mako, leading to cellular degradation. For obvious reasons, Shinra doesn't advertise that side effect in their recruiting brochure, instead counting on SOLDIERs dying in combat before they have the chance to learn the truth. But Zack still has years and years before he has to worry about that. For now, his cells are healthy, robust, and thriving, each shining with a tiny star of mako energy.

Cells that haven't adapted to mako, however…

Cloud's cells are a mess. The mako might have been what saved him, but it might be what kills him too. An alarming number of his cells are oversaturated with it, swollen to the point of rupture. Those that have burst are shriveled, black specks on the slide. Unlike Zack's body, which has adapted to utilize mako, Cloud's body doesn't know what to do with it. After briefly accelerating healing, it sits like sludge in his cells and inhibits regular cellular processes. It's a miracle that he's alive at all. He might not be for long, though. As mako-infected cells replace healthy ones, the risk of mako poisoning exponentially increases.

You stubbornly stare at your clipboard to avoid Hojo's eyes while you report your findings and voice your concerns about Cloud's mako exposure. For once, Hojo agrees with you. Although he doesn't care about his subjects' comfort, he can't risk losing the specimen that killed Sephiroth. He tells you that Cloud will be moved to a cell once his surgical incisions have sufficiently healed. If it were up to you, Cloud would be removed from mako immediately, but Hojo has more experience than you in knowing how much mako a body can take before giving out.

Clark and Julia, who ran tests to search for anomalies in Cloud and Zack's DNA, present their findings. Hojo's teeth audibly grind together when they admit that further analysis hasn't revealed anything remarkable about Zack and Cloud. Hojo gathers the reports and shuts himself in his office by slamming the door behind him.

Your dad calls you during lunch. You let him go to voicemail.

That afternoon, you, Julia, and Clark add the data you gathered to the database. You wish your desk didn't face the tanks. It would have been easier to concentrate without having your eyes constantly pulled to Cloud and Zack. They've been drifting in and out of consciousness all day, their bodies requiring rest after yesterday's trauma. When they jerk awake, confusion momentarily clouds their features, only to be immediately followed by despair when they remember where they are. You can tell the mako still burns Cloud's lungs by the way his chest rises and falls spasmodically. You wonder if he would feel relieved to know that he will be pulled from the tank in a few days, even if it's just to be shoved into a cell.

The workday finally draws to a close. You shoulder past Clark on your way up the stairs, hellbent on trading the flickering, greenish lights of the lab for the last hours of daylight. It's drizzling, but you pull on your running clothes and head outside. The rain feels good after sitting in stagnant air all day.

You don't have the same frantic energy that drove you to collapse yesterday. Instead, every step is heavy as if your shoes were full of lead. You turn onto the road to Nibelheim and manage a half-mile of a lazy jog. You eventually slow to a walk.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. It's your dad again. You let him go to voicemail again. He texts you. _Just checking in to see how you're doing. Are you okay?_ You silence your phone and continue along the path.

The knowledge that you are effectively owned by Shinra threatens to eat you whole, the memory of Hojo laughing at your attempt to resign fresh in your mind. You swallow down your fear, anger, and hurt, and force yourself to focus on the sound of gravel crunching beneath your feet. You're physically, mentally, and emotionally spent. You want to believe that you have no more tears to shed.

_Animals, humans, what's the difference?_

_If you don't do it, someone else will._

_It's just a job._

_You're protecting yourself, that's all._

_Better them than you._

Maybe in time, you'll come to believe those things.

The steady rhythm of your feet against gravel eventually lulls you into a trance. A fog rolls in and devours everything around you. You're the only thing that exists. There is no Shinra, there is no Hojo, there is no Cloud, there is no Zack.

There's just you…

…the gravel…

…the fog…

…and a puff of black ash that rises from your feet.

You look up.

You're in the ruins of Nibelheim.

The blackened skeletons of buildings stand in stark contrast with a gray sky. Ash drifts noiselessly through the town, twisting itself into the vaguely recognizable shapes of things that once were: a couple holding hands, a mother pushing a stroller, a child running. A breeze pushes its way through a charred tree, the creaking of its branches the only noise audible above the pounding of your heart.

So this is where an entire village lost their lives.

The crew of Shinra personnel you glimpsed when you arrived in Nibelheim are nowhere to be found. Like you, they are probably also finished with work for the day. Through the fog, you think you see the bulky forms of construction equipment and dumpsters. Shinra is going to demolish this site and pretend like it never happened. Those who suffered and died here are to be buried and forgotten. The thought would repulse you if you hadn't already grown to expect this from Shinra.

Morbid curiosity propels you forward into the center of the town. The remnants of a windmill slowly turn atop the burnt-out shell of a water tank. A sign sways on a broken chain, the words _"General Goods"_ barely legible on its surface. Several doors are cut neatly in half. _Sephiroth._

A shadow flits across your peripheral vision. Your heart leaps into your throat and your head snaps to follow it, except it's already disappeared into the fog. You strain your ears for footsteps, a twig snapping, _anything_ , but all you can hear is your own ragged breathing. You take one, two steps backward, and spin around to launch yourself into a sprint to get out of this village-turned-graveyard as fast as you can.

You're just outside Nibelheim when you glance behind you to see if the eyes you feel on your back are real or imagined. They're imagined, because the eyes are actually in front of you.

With a strangled cry, you skid to a stop and fall over backward to avoid colliding with the man who appeared in your path. You scramble back, reopening the scabs on your hands from yesterday's fall.

"Stop." the man says. His voice is deep, rich, commanding. You freeze.

He's dressed in a crisp, black suit. _A Turk_. He has sleek, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and sharp, calculating eyes. You eye the space on his hip where he's undoubtedly hiding a gun.

"You're one of Hojo's scientists, aren't you?"

You nod. Your jaw is locked with fear.

The man eyes you as if he's deciding what to do with you. You hope that one of the options isn't to put a bullet through your skull. With a short sigh, he seems to reach a decision. He offers you his hand. You hesitate, then accept it. Blood from your skinned hands stains his own, but he doesn't seem to care. He's probably seen too much of it.

"Your… _test subjects_." he says, his voice hardening in thinly veiled disgust on the last two words. "One of them is SOLDIER First Class, Zack Fair, right?"

You start to nod again, but remember Hojo's threat about keeping silent. It's too late, though. The man has read everything he needs to from your face. A flash of anger and sorrow peek through his otherwise emotionless mask.

"Get back to the mansion." he says. "Stay out of Nibelheim." He steps aside and motions for you to continue up the path. You step past him. When you turn back, he's already disappeared into the fog. You still feel eyes on your back all the way back to the mansion.

You press the front door shut behind you and turn the lock over. You peer out the window and search for any movement beyond the wrought-iron 's nothing but fog and ever-darkening shadows. You press your palm against your chest to steady your racing heart.

So the Turks really are involved. Stay out of Nibelheim, huh? No problem. Guess you'd better find a new running trail.

You're not quite ready to go to bed, but you're also not willing to join Clark and Barnes in the kitchen for dinner, so you wander aimlessly through the mansion, peering in room after empty room. All the rooms are furnished with all of the right things, beds, dressers, armoires…but they lack something that makes them feel like they've ever been inhabited by a real person. The drawers are empty. The sheets aren't wrinkled. The closets are barren.

One room is set up to be an entertaining space with plump, chintz armchairs, heaps of books, a chess set, and a rolling bar cart. The cart is stocked with rum, whiskey, vodka, gin… Without thinking, you seize two bottles. They're dusty, but sealed, so they should be good. You hold them close to your chest and hurry back to your room.

You take a swig right from the bottle. Two. Three. Four. Fire pours down your throat to your stomach. A heavy blanket drapes over your body and your mind. The floor gently drops away; you're in a free fall. You shut your eyes and soak it in. It feels _good._

Your dad calls again. Maybe it's the alcohol, but you feel like answering this time.

"Hey there." Your voice is sticky.

"There you are! Where have you been?"

"Oh… It's just been a busy day."

"Did you think about what I said?"

"Yeah."

"Did you…did you make a decision?"

_"_ Yeah." _One was made for you, at least._

"Are you coming home?"

"…no."

"Ah." Your dad's voice is unexpectedly tight. "Alright. Whatever you think is best. Just know that if you change your mind at any time, I'll be okay. Okay?"

You blink back tears. "…okay."

If only you had the luxury of changing your mind.

You're in a foul mood the following morning. There's a scowl you can't scrub off your face and you hate everything about everyone. You hate the way Julia's hair dips into her yogurt when she leans across the table. You hate the way Clark's fork scrapes his teeth every time he takes a bite. You can't stay in the kitchen. You take your bagel and head to the lab. Barnes pisses you off because he's _still_ scrolling through his goddamn phone. Dom sickens you by the way he's making a game of trying to catch Cloud's eye through the glass, moving so that no matter where Cloud turns, Dom is in front of him. Zack glowers at him from the next tank over.

The biggest spot of hate in your heart is reserved for Hojo. When he exits his office, it's all you can do not to dump your boiling-hot coffee on him. You hate that his lips never stop twitching. You hate the stupid gestures he makes with his hands while talking. You hate how he wears dark-tinted glasses in a _fucking_ basement.

Today's not the day to pick a fight with him, though. He's wearing a scowl that rivals your own.

"As you all know, analysis of TS-2 and TS-3's cells didn't yield any new information. They're as ordinary as we expected." he says by way of greeting. His tone is neutral, but you know him well enough to pick up subtle undertones of fury. In a few days, the President expects a report explaining why one of Shinra's most valuable assets fell in combat, and Hojo has nothing to show for it.

_Good._

"There is one more avenue we can explore, however. First responders to Nibelheim were able to recover a few bodies before they returned to the lifestream. Among them was the body of TS-3's mother. Although I _highly_ doubt there is anything remarkable about that woman, it would be a serious oversight if we don't examine her as well."

Your hate swells. You know Hojo doesn't actually believe he'll learn anything new about Cloud by dissecting his mother. He wants to punish Cloud for his own failure to learn why Sephiroth fell to his hands.

Hojo motions for Dom and Barnes to roll a gurney down to the cold-storage unit. You glance at Cloud. He's watching Dom's retreating figure with an unmasked expression of relief at finally being left alone. If only he knew what was coming.

You wonder briefly if you could release a heavy dose of sedative into his tank without anyone noticing, but immediately discount the idea. You can't do anything without Hojo noticing. With a sour expression, you wash your hands and pull on your gloves and mask.

The squealing of the gurney's wheels heralds its return. The body is sealed inside a black bag. Dom and Barnes pull up next to the operating table and shift the body onto it. There's a small puddle of mako left on the gurney: evidence that the body had been stored in mako to prevent it from dissolving back into the lifestream. You shudder. It isn't right to interfere with a natural process like that. You wish you had some essential oils to drop into your mask. The body is cool right now, but it probably isn't going to smell great as it warms.

Cloud and Zack are watching attentively. You want to tell them to look away.

Without fanfare, Hojo unzips the bag.

The body is mottled, burnt, and nearly cut in half, but her features are more-or-less intact. Her hair, the exact same shade of blonde as Cloud's, shines dully under the lights. It's flecked with blood.

You hear a thud from the tanks. Cloud has kicked himself to the back of his tank to put as much distance between him and his mother's corpse as possible. Horror contorts his features, his shaking hands clamped over his mouth. Zack freezes, his face morphing from realization to distress. He turns to Cloud and mouths something to him, exaggerating his speech so even you can understand what he's saying halfway across the room. _Don't look. Look away. Don't look._

But Cloud can't tear his eyes away. Tears, unable to mix with mako, float like diamonds around his face. His body is trembling, his head unconsciously shaking from side to side, trying to deny what he sees in front of him.

Hojo's eyes flick upwards towards Cloud. You can feel sadistic glee rolling off him in waves as he drinks in Cloud's misery.

_Gods, you hate him._

Hojo sinks his knife into Cloud's mother's corpse.

You, Julia, and Clark are on standby, taking the samples he collects and storing them carefully in vials and slides. Skin, muscle, lungs, heart; nothing is left untouched. Hojo is uncharacteristically inelegant in his technique, cleaving the body apart like a butcher rather than a renowned scientist. Chunks of flesh litter the floor as he callously discards whatever he deems unfit for harvest. He casually throws a piece of liver at Cloud's tank. The flesh hits the glass with a wet _slap_ and leaves a slimy trail down the side as it slides to the floor. Cloud buries his head in his arms.

It's good that he does, because Hojo pulls out the bone saw. He opens Cloud's mother's skull and sets her decaying brain on a collect razor-thin samples of brain tissue and really wish for those essential oils. Hojo scoops out each of her eyes and places them in jars of mako. Although they've grayed in death, you can see that her irises are lighter than Cloud's. She must have been beautiful in life.

Gutted, eyeless, and brainless, there's not a whole lot Hojo can continue to do with Cloud's mother's body. He exhales through his nose like a child finishing with a tantrum and steps away from the table. The body is messy and barely resembles a human at this point. Hojo chews on his cheek, his pockmarked, oily skin shining under the lights. Without warning, he lops off the corpse's head and grabs it by the remaining hair clinging to the intact bottom of its skull. Gravity opens Cloud's mother's limp jaw, forcing an expression of surprise.

Clark moans in disgust. You're with him.

"Store the body." Hojo orders Dom and Barnes. "We may need it again." They zip the remnants of the body in the black bag and load it onto the cart.

As soon as the table is clear, Hojo places Cloud's mother's head on it and positions it so its gaping eye sockets face Cloud. "It's nice when families get together, isn't it?" he laughs before retreating into his office.

_What a fucking prick_.

You try to go about your duties, but the head pulls your attention like a magnet. It will be hours before the mako solution it marinated in evaporates from the tissue and finally allows it to rejoin the lifestream. In the meantime, you hope that Cloud keeps his eyes squeezed shut.

Unfortunately, that is too much to hope for.

You glance up at the exact moment Cloud does. When he realizes that the gray, grizzled lump of flesh on the table is his mother's sawed-off head, you're grateful that the tank swallows his screams of grief.

You drink straight from the bottle again that night. Your mom, dad, and sister have left you voicemails. You delete them without even listening.

You must look like shit the next day, because Clark hands you a coffee without you even asking for it.

Zack appears to be all but fully recovered. Cloud's incisions, however, look as though they might split at the faintest mention of any physical activity. Hojo decides he could use another day in mako, despite the clock ticking on potential poisoning.

In the meantime, Dom and Barnes are tasked with preparing a cell for Cloud and Zack down a hallway just off of the lab. There are four cells in total, but only one is fitted for human use. It has rusted bed frames bolted to the ground, a small bathroom area, and a wire chute in which subjects place their forearms so scientists can safely deliver injections without having to remove them from their cell. How subjects are coaxed into willingly offering their arms into the chute is something of a mystery for you until Hojo hands you, Clark, Julia, Dom, and Barnes small remote controllers to strap to your belt. An electric cuff around the ankle would provide all the incentive needed for Cloud and Zack to comply with any request. Dom and Barnes plop musty, thin mattresses onto the bed frames, sweep out some cobwebs, and call the space habitable. You retrieve a couple of blankets and pillows from one of the many uninhabited rooms upstairs and add them to the beds. It isn't much, but it's something.

The cell's door is automated, controlled by a small panel down the hall. You test it a few times to make sure it's working. The power flickers once, just briefly, and the door slides halfway open on its own before you regain control of it. You mention this to Dom and Barnes, who then inspect the source of the failure. They conclude it was faulty wiring and replace the offending wire. You're not convinced that the door is totally safe now (it's too easy to imagine Zack breaking free and murdering you in your sleep), but you're outvoted when you suggest installing a manual lock on the door instead. "What, so they can pick it open?" reasons Barnes.

Barnes practices casting silence that afternoon. Dom is his guinea pig. Dom's voice cuts in and out like a video call with a poor connection. It makes it exceptionally difficult to concentrate on your task of ordering supplies from Midgar. Without Hojo's knowledge, you add anesthesia to the order. No matter what he claimed, there was no need for Zack and Cloud to be conscious each time they go under the knife.

"Can't you do that somewhere else?" Julia finally snaps at Dom and Barnes. She's analyzing Cloud's mother's cell samples.

"Fu-…-ou…-tch." Dom replies, sounding like he's speaking through an industrial fan.

Julia rises to her feet, eyes narrowed, and moves forward like she's going to slap him. Barnes steps between them.

"Of course, our bad." he says and steers Dom from the lab with a firm grip on his shoulder.

By the end of the day, Barnes can manage casting and maintaining silence for three minutes at a time. Hojo grumbles that it's not more. You do too. This could mean more duct tape.

Unsurprisingly, there's nothing special about Cloud's mother. Hojo doesn't seem too disappointed, confirming your suspicions that he only dissected her to punish Cloud rather than out of genuine belief that he could learn something from her cells. If only he spent that time drafting a report for the President instead. The report is due in two days and he still has nothing.

Would the President shut down this lab if Hojo doesn't submit anything?You hope so.

The next day, Hojo wants to examine Cloud and Zack to determine if they are ready to be placed in their cell. Cloud doesn't react well to the mako draining from his tank. He begins seizing the moment his body tries to make the transition from breathing mako to air. Mako pours from his mouth and nose and his limbs jerk sporadically, thudding against the glass. His hair becomes stained with red. Zack is frantic.

You hurriedly unlock the chamber door so Dom and Barnes can haul Cloud out and set him on an open stretch of floor to ride out the seizure. Cloud's skin pulls against his stitches and threatens to tear. You pray that the stitches hold. Hojo observes the scene with unmasked disdain. You can feelhis contempt for Cloud grow. Clark looks queasy.

Eventually, Cloud's shaking subsides, but he retches so violently that you think he's going to throw up his insides along with the mako. He tries to crawl onto his hands and knees, but his arms won't support him. He collapses into a pool of his own vomit, the blood in his hair mixing with green. Mild tremors wrack his body.

The lab is silent except for Zack's fists hitting glass.

Julia wrinkles her nose at the smell. "Can't we do something about that?"

"Sure, be our guest." Barnes says snidely. "The cleaning closet is that way."

" _Barnes,_ " Hojo says pointedly.

Barnes scowls. "Fine."

"And you," Hojo says to Dom. "Clean the specimen."

"You got it, boss." Dom says, hauling Cloud off the ground. "I'll rinse him off."

There's something in his tone that doesn't sit right with you, but they've disappeared down the hallway before you can say anything.

Barnes grumbles at having to clean up vomit until a warning glance from Hojo silences him. When he finishes, Hojo orders him to pull Zack from his tank. You administer sleeping gas, which buys Barnes five minutes to drag Zack from the tank to the operating table.

Zack is spitting mad when he comes to.

"Where's Cloud? What did you do to him?! Fucking _answer me_ , damnit. What did you do to him?!"

"Calm, now. Hush, hush." Hojo says in a falsely sweet voice, running his hand over Zack's hair. Zack squirms under his touch. "TS-3 will be back shortly. He just needed to be cleaned up, that's all. You have no idea how lucky you both are. Not everyone has the privilege of being cared for by Shinra's leading scientist. It's lucky that you fell into my hands and not into the lab of some second-rate hack."

"Let me go and I'll show you my gratitude." Zack snarls.

"Hmm, no, I don't think I will. I'm not going to let you go for a very, _very_ long time. Perhaps not ever."

"You bastard. People are going to be looking for us. You can't keep us here forever!"

A sinister smile splits Hojo's face. "Why would anyone look for dead people?"

Zack pales. "What…what are you saying?"

"It's so tragic… The news is all over it. Didn't you hear? SOLDIER First Class, Zack Fair, was killed in action just over a week ago. I heard the funeral was nice. Very tasteful."

Zack's face contorts in rage. _"You fucking bastard."_

"Shinra took care of all of the arrangements. It was just too much for your grieving parents to handle. They're very grateful."

_"Goddamn you."_

Hojo laughs, delighting in the pain he was causing. "Maybe I'll send them a gift. A little memento. Perhaps a lock of your hair? A tooth? Salvaged from your otherwise mangled corpse, of course."

"When I get out of here, I'm going to-"

But Hojo's laughter drowns him out. " _When_ you get out of here? My, you still have a lot of hope, don't you? My dear boy, you're _never_ getting out of here."

Just then, a grunt of pain echoes down the hallway. "You _fucking bitch._ " you hear Dom roar. Then the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Cloud yelps.

Zack's attention immediately shifts to the hallway.

_"Cloud!"_

Hojo motions with his head to have Barnes go investigate. Moments later, he and Dom are manhandling a sopping wet Cloud back into the lab, his arms twisted painfully behind his back. Cloud's left eye is swelling shut. Dom's nose is red, swollen, and bleeding. It's broken.

Cloud's feet dig stubbornly into the doorframe. Dom uses his free hand to seize a fistful of Cloud's hair and bash his head against the door jamb, sufficiently stunning Cloud enough to force him into the lab. Barnes moves quickly, using Cloud's momentary disorientation to grab his ankles and hoist him onto the operating table while Dom follows with his shoulders. Cloud recovers his senses as Dom starts to secure his wrists, Barnes his ankles. He kicks out at Barnes who leaps away, narrowly avoiding a broken nose of his own. Cloud attempts to claw Dom's grip off of him, but his attempt is weakened by the fact that his fingernails are still broken or missing from scratching at the mako tank glass.

Cloud screeches in wordless rage as Dom and Barnes gain the upper hand and finish securing him to the table.

"You goddamn _bitch_." Dom's hand wraps around Cloud's throat and roughly shakes him. "You're going to fucking pay for that." Cloud chokes but manages to hack up enough spit to land a wad of it on Dom's forearm. Dom recoils with a snarl and pulls back his fist, aiming for Cloud's other eye.

"Enough." Hojo says quietly.

Dom swears, but lowers his clenched fist. "This _fucker_ attacked me."

"Sure you didn't deserve it?" Barnes mutters so quietly that only you hear.

" _Fuck you._ " Cloud spits back hoarsely. "You fucking keep your hands off me."

" _Cloud!_ What happened?! What di-?" Zack's

"Cast silence." Hojo orders Barnes. Zack is cut off mid-sentence.

Zack glowers contemptuously at Dom as best as he can from his confined position. Dom has a tissue pressed over his nose, his head tilted back, his shirt stained with blood.

"Gonna go get some ice." he mutters sullenly before stomping out of the lab.

Cloud's trembling, but it's difficult to tell whether it's from cold, anger, adrenaline, or the memory of the last time he was strapped to the table. Maybe a combination of all of the above.

You're assigned to check Cloud's surgical incisions from last week. You gently run your fingers over the uneven stitches you left in his skin. He flinches beneath your touch.

The Y-incision looks weeks-old rather than days. If you weren't already familiar with the power of mako, you would consider it a miracle. His seizure and scuffle with Dom have reopened the wound in a few areas, marked by sluggishly oozing blood. Closer inspection tells you it's nothing serious, but since Cloud won't reenter the mako chamber, you clean the breaks with antiseptic. The cut on his head also isn't anything serious, but you clean and bandage it too. During this process, Barnes has to re-cast silence a few times, his face slowly going red with the effort of maintaining the spell.

"He's fine to go to a cell." you tell Hojo.

"Likewise for TS-2." says Julia. She's just finished pulling her stitches from Zack. There's barely any impression of a Y-incision marring his chest.

Hojo casts a brief eye over Cloud and Zack to confirm your assessments, nods, and motions for Clark to bring over the electric cuffs. The cuffs have dozens of tiny, metal teeth lining their interior that dig into Cloud and Zack's skin as Clark secures them around their ankles.

"Just so you know what these do…" Hojo says before pressing the button on the controller strapped to his belt. Zack and Cloud immediately writhe on the table, their backs arching as much as their restraints allow, their mouths open in silent screams.

Hojo releases the button and Cloud and Zack slump back onto the table, panting.

Hojo says "We are going to let you up from these tables. You are going to allow yourselves to be escorted down the hall. You are going to quietly enter your cell. If one of you even _thinks_ of trying anything, you're both going to feel that again, and I promise I won't be so quick to stop it. Understand?"

Zack and Cloud don't give any indication that they heard him. Hojo taps the button, releasing a small pulse of electricity. Cloud and Zack flinch. "I asked if you understand." Hojo repeats.

Cloud and Zack nod as much as they can with their heads restrained.

"Good." Hojo says. "Release them."

You stand back as Dom and Barnes undo Cloud and Zack's restraints. They slowly sit up, Zack rubbing at his wrists, Cloud leaning heavily on his hands for support. Cloud sways unsteadily as he gets to his feet, and, for a moment, it seems like Zack is going to have trouble standing too, but, before you can blink, he lunges lightning-fast at Hojo.

Hojo is faster.

Zack and Cloud drop. True to his word, Hojo does not let his finger off the button a quickly as before. You look away, not caring to watch Cloud and Zack convulse on the ground in silent agony. You're no longer certain if silence is better than listening to their screams. There's something deeply unsettling about it.

Finally, Hojo removes his finger from the button. Cloud and Zack remain motionless on the floor breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry, but I thought I made it clear." There's a hard edge in Hojo's voice. "You are going to stand up. You are going to _nicely_ allow yourselves to be escorted down the hall. You are going to _quietly_ enter your cell. If not…well, I can do this all day. Now, _get up._ "

Zack and Cloud shakily pull themselves to their feet. Zack spits blood. He bit through his tongue. Cloud tore a few more stitches and blood drips lazily down his chest. You catch a look of genuine regret flash over Zack's face. You can't help but admit Hojo's brilliance of having one trigger for two cuffs. You're pretty sure that Zack wouldn't care if he were electrocuted all day as long as it meant pissing off Hojo. The second Cloud is threatened, however…

Barnes flanks Cloud before Dom has the chance to move towards him. Dom shoots him a glare before taking his place by Zack. He almost appears to be sulking. They both have their fingers on the shock controllers, ready to act if Cloud and Zack step out of line. But Cloud doesn't seem to have any fight left in him, and Zack look prepared to be the cause of Cloud's suffering again. They limp out of the lab. Shortly thereafter, the sound of bars clanging shut echoes down the hall. You take a seat at your desk and prepare to attend to computer work.

Your relief at no longer having to see Cloud and Zack inside their tanks from your desk is nullified when you realize you can now hear their voices drift down the hall.

"…you okay?" Zack asks Cloud.

Cloud snorts. "No."

"Yeah…stupid question." Zack remains silent for a while. "This is so fucked. This is so _fucked_." You hear the sound of flesh against metal, the rattling of bars. "Damn it, _damn it, damn it. Fucking open._ "

Another clang. A curse. The groan of a lock being tested. A snarl.

Julia glides past your desk to move down the hall to approach Cloud and Zack's cell. "Some of us are trying to work." you hear her say cooly. "Some quiet would be appreciated."

"Go to hel- _agh!_ "

"As I said, quiet would be appreciated. Stop before I'm forced to shock you again. You don't want your friend to tear more stitches, do you?"

Julia quietly returns to her desk. Zack stops testing the bars, but you can feel his fury radiate down the hall.

"This is fucking bullshit." he snarls under his breath. "Whoa, hey, what's wrong?"

"Just need to sit down." Cloud mumbles.

"You're bleeding…"

"It's nothing."

"It's _not_ nothing."

"So what are you going to do about it?" Cloud asks, his voice hard.

Zack doesn't respond for a moment. "We're going to wait a few days, let you heal up. Then we're getting out of here."

"…sure."

" _We are._ " Zack insists. A long pause, then, "…that guard, what did he…?"

"Don't worry about it." Cloud replies icily. "I handled it."

"Cloud…"

"I don't want to talk about it."

They're quiet for a long time after that.

While Cloud and Zack adjust to cell life, you assist Hojo with writing the report for President Shinra. The fact that he wasn't able to find anything exceptional about those who took down his greatest triumph bothers Hojo to the point of losing coherent thought. You watch him begin, delete, and restart his report at least fifty times. Finally, he slams a copy of it on your desk for you to proofread. It's nearly five o'clock, but he needs it by tomorrow, so you sigh and settle into your desk chair for a late day.

Cloud and Zack's lack of remarkable qualities is summarized as " _an undefinable characteristic that requires further study._ " Hojo goes on to suggest that this undefinable trait makes Cloud and Zack ideal candidates for Project S II; a project to create the next generation of SOLDIER and possible conduit through which to communicate with J-E-N-O-V-A. Hojo maintains that Sephiroth was an undeniable success, but acknowledges that infusing a fetus with J-cells during development may have led to mental instability, ultimately causing Sephiroth's downfall. Hojo argues that introducing J-cells to a person who already has a fully formed sense of self will reduce the likelihood of this happening again. He plans for the specimens to also be exposed to S-cells, citing that they are a necessary agent for J-cells to bind with and react to.

Hojo acknowledges that developing cells are much more likely to integrate S- and J-cells than fully developed cells, which is why Sephiroth was a success; he was introduced to J-cells when he was nothing _but_ a mass of developing cells. Hojo writes " _to encourage full integration of S- and J-cells, methodic, precise, physical duress will be applied to the specimens, followed by immediate S- and J-cell injections and infusions. As the cells regenerate in the presence of S- and J-cells, it is highly probable that they will incorporate them into their own cellular structure. Mako baths will be used to accelerate cellular regeneration."_

The project timeline stretches two years. Every instance of "physical duress" Cloud and Zack will undergo is neatly broken down into the timeline with the trauma date and subsequent recovery period marked in clean, black text. _Every inch_ of Cloud and Zack's bodies is going to be cut, broken, or bruised in some way to destroy existing cells and encourage the body to make new ones so that, over time, Cloud and Zack will incorporate Sephiroth and J-E-N-O-V-A's DNA into their own. Hojo plans to begin with S-cell injections. Then, after a year, he'll repeat the process with J-cells.

You return the report to Hojo with a few minor corrections and go upstairs to drink yourself to sleep.

Except you can't sleep.

Three, four, five shots and the world is spinning around you, but the sleep won't come. You're tormented by the knowledge of what is coming for Cloud and Zack. What _you_ will be doing to Cloud and Zack.

There's two missed calls from your mom, one missed call from your sister, and one text message from your dad. You ignore them all.

You pound back a sixth shot and push yourself to your feet. There's something you have to do. The earth tilts sharply beneath you, but luckily there's a wall nearby to catch you. You straighten up and manage to grasp the doorknob on the second try.

How you don't break your neck going down the stairs is a mystery, but you find yourself in the basement's atrium without coming to any harm. Everyone else is asleep. A dull thrill goes up your spine as you strain your ears and hear nothing but the quiet hum of machinery. The lights are on as they always are, but, for some reason, the lab's shadows feel deeper at this late hour. You avoid looking at the door that leads to the catacombs and stumble towards the lab.

You bump into your desk and spill pens and pencils onto the floor.

"Shit…" you mumble, but you don't stop to pick them up.

You roll your ankle as you approach the cell and end up landing on your ass in front of Cloud and Zack.

"…hey," you say with all the dignity of someone who didn't just trip over nothing.

They're in defensive stances against the back wall, pressing themselves as far away as they can get from you. Zack's eyes gleam in the dull light. Cloud's eyes even seem to have a slight shine of their own, although that could just be the alcohol playing tricks on you.

"…s'no need to stand." you slur. You wave your hand and motion them to sit. "Sit down, sssit down…really, it'ss fine. 'm not gonna… 'm not working right now, y'know?"

"Why are you here?" Zack asks. There's a glint in his eye that probably would have made you piss yourself in fear if you were sober. He hasn't moved any closer to you, but you know he could have his hands around your throat in a single stride if there weren't bars between you.

"'cause I can't leave. I mean…" You suppress a belch. "I could…but then they'd make me into-"

"No," Zack interrupts you coldly. "Why are you here _now_? It must be after midnight."

"…oh. Ahh…huh." It's becoming increasingly difficult to form sentences. "I…I wanted to ssay I'm ssorry."

You think you hear Cloud scoff derisively, but someone's pressed heavy earmuffs over your ears. You try to look at him, but he drifts in and out of focus. There's a dark red stain on his chest.

Ahh, yes. His pulled stitches.

"I'm sso fucking ssorry…" you repeat. There's a lump in your throat. "…that…I didn't want to…I didn't have a choice…I'm sso ssorry."

Zack says something. You hear his words, but you don't understand them. Suddenly, you're babbling. You're not entirely sure what you're saying, but you feel it all spill out of you. Your debt. Your dad. Your fear of Shinra arresting you. Your guilt.

Zack says something again. You talk over him. You can't stop. You're not sure if you're even making sense at this point, but the words keep coming, falling like bricks from your mouth. You might be crying, but your face is too numb to tell.

Zack says something again. And again. And again. And, finally, his words make it through the earmuffs pressed against your skull.

"If you're sorry, you'll let us go."

You stare at him through bloodshot eyes.

"They'll kill me…" you whisper.

Zack approaches the bars and crouches down next to you. His expression is the perfect balance of imploring and solemnity. You remember when he used to greet you in the halls of the Shinra Building. He looks as though he's aged five years since then.

"If you're sorry, you'll let us go." he repeats.

"…I _can't…_ "

"It's the only way to make things right."

_"…but…"_

"Please." His eyes pierce your soul.

Against your will, your head starts nodding.

"…okay."

Alarm bells are going off somewhere in the back of your mind letting you know that this is an incredibly bad idea, but you're so sure that _this is the right thing to do_ that you barely hear them.

You must atone for what you've done.

You rock forward onto your hands and knees. It takes you six tries to stand. Finally, with some assistance from the wall, you get to your feet. The control panel for the door is just a few steps away. You take a wobbling step. A step backwards. Two steps forward. You reach out to grab the control panel…

…the world spins…

…and it goes dark…


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey."

You're covered by a thick blanket of darkness. Your body is lead. Your mouth is cotton. Your brain is mush.

_"Hey!"_

You try to swallow. Your tongue scrapes like sandpaper against the roof of your mouth.

"Wake up! C'mon, _wake up._ "

Your eyes are gummed shut, but you manage to pry one open. You shut it immediately. As faint as the lights are, they're as brilliant as suns to your sensitive eyes. It feels as though a nail is being driven through your skull. Maybe ten nails.

_"Get up!_ Someone's coming!"

That gets a reaction out of you.

Body tensing, you force your eyes open. Your cheek is pressed against the cold, cement floor. Your joints are frozen stiff. You push yourself into a seated position.

Your heart skips a beat when you realize where you are. In the lab? Why…?

Oh. _Oh._

Your memories rush back, distorted and jumbled as if they happened to someone else, not you, but it _was_ you who got black-out drunk, stumbled to the lab, and nearly released two of Shinra's most classified specimens. _What the hell were you thinking?!_

Zack's voice snaps you back to the present.

"Stand up! Come on!"

Your neck screams as you wrench it left to meet Zack's gaze between bars. Cloud is just behind him, staring at you with the same intensity, despite his left eye being swollen shut.

"Do you understand me?! Someone is coming. Get up!"

You can't hear anyone, but you push yourself to your feet. Your legs are numb, dead bricks of flesh beneath you. You stumble.

"Open the door." Zack hisses.

You still feel the alcohol in your system, but you're no longer drunk enough to ignore the warning bells sounding in your head. If you let them go, you die. Simple.

"I…"

_"Open it."_ Zack repeats. You've never heard that much desperation in anyone's voice before. "Please. _Please._ You want out too, right? We'll get out together. I'll protect you."

"…I…"

Just then, you hear the footsteps Zack's sensitive ears picked up long before you.

"Open. The. Door."

You're paralyzed.

"Open it!"

You wait too long and the decision is made for you.

"…you're up early."

It's Dom.

Zack's face collapses in despair. He and Cloud pull away from the bars to retreat to the back of the cell. Cloud tucks himself in the shadows.

You clear your throat and taste stale whiskey on your breath. You hope Dom can't smell it. "Umm, yeah. Couldn't sleep…"

"Uh-huh." he says flatly. "What are you doing down here?"

"Uh…"

Dom raises his eyebrows expectantly. There are bruises under both of his eyes and his nose is bandaged. Clark must have patched him up.

You clear your throat again, more to give yourself a moment to think of a lie than out of actual need. "…I wanted to make sure the door was holding, that's all. I'm still worried about that wire." Dried saliva tugs at the skin of your cheek, matching a pool of dried saliva on the floor. You drag the back of your hand across your face to scrub it off.

"That? The wiring is perfect now. But I get it. I don't want 'em getting out either."

"Scared because you know you can't take us in a fair fight?" Zack sneers from the back of his cell.

"Oh, I know I don't stand a chance against _you_." Dom replies easily. "That's why I'm glad we've got these." He taps the controller on his belt. "Levels the playing field a bit. Blondy, on the other hand…"

"Seemed to manage just fine yesterday." Cloud says, projecting confidence, but you detect the faintest tremor in his voice. "How's the nose?"

Dom scowls. "You caught me off guard, that's all. Didn't think a skinny twig like you could put up much of a fight. Next time."

"Next time I'll break something else."

Dom's laugh is short and hoarse, like a dog's bark. "Yeah, sure, kid."

"He means it." Zack says. "And I do too. You keep away from him."

"Goddamn, you two are prickly. I'm just doing my job. Speaking of which, I've got things to do. I'll see you later." He winks at Cloud and saunters down the hall. He looks back over his shoulder at you. "Coming?"

"Uh…yeah."

Zack tries to catch your eye, perhaps in a last-ditch attempt to get you to open the door. You resolutely keep your eyes on the floor and leave them. You hear the sound of Zack's fist hitting the bars behind you.

It's 6:15. You've got forty-five minutes to shower, scrub the taste of alcohol from your teeth, and change into clothes that aren't rumpled from spending the night on concrete. At 6:57, you grab two pieces of bread and a mug of coffee from the kitchen and sprint downstairs. You stuff the bread into your face in the most dignified manner possible, but it's dry and gets stuck in your throat. You choke and wash it down with coffee. Julia eyes you with contempt.

No longer caught in the rush of trying to get to the lab on time, the realization that you nearly released two highly classified specimens smacks you in the face. _What the fuck were you thinking?!_ Your hands start to shake as your brain projects scenarios of what could have been. You could have let them go and Zack could have killed you. You could have let them go and Shinra could have killed you. You could have let them go and Hojo could have made you take their place. You could have let them go and become a fugitive yourself. You stuff your hands into your pockets to hide how badly they're shaking. You take long, deep breaths to steady yourself.

Yet, underneath the fear of what could have been, is the regret that you didn't let them go.

Hojo pokes his head out of his office long enough to remind everyone that today is his important call with the President. There's a thread of tension in his posture that undermines his usual, self-assured tone. The President is expecting a damn good explanation of why Sephiroth fell to a common infantryman, and Hojo doesn't have one. There's absolutely nothing special about Cloud. Hojo will just have to hope that the President buys his vague "undefined quality" bullshit and gets excited enough about Hojo's plans for Cloud and Zack to ignore his recent failure.

None of you are allowed to sit in during the call, so you're all stuck preparing the gym facilities where Cloud and Zack's physical performance assessments will take place. Although the space is fully equipped with treadmills, weights, weaponry, and a Shinra VR combat simulator, the machinery is several decades out-of-date and needs to be replaced. Hojo wants everything pulled from the room and stuffed into the catacombs. Normally, you'd think that professionals specializing in moving heavy equipment would be more suited to this work, but since no outsiders are allowed into the lab, you, Julia, Clark, Dom, and Barnes get the pleasure of wrestling the equipment instead. Clark curses when you drop your end of the treadmill on his toe. You apologize profusely, but lose all sympathy for him when he wedges your fingers between the treadmill and the wall. After a fierce struggle, you finally load the treadmill onto a cart.

Nursing your throbbing fingers, you grab the cart's handles to help Barnes take the treadmill to the catacombs. Something stuck to your sleeve catches the light as you roll the cart out of the gym. It's a long, silver hair.

Clark stays behind to help Julia and Dom load the next treadmill onto another cart. Since arriving at the mansion, you've avoided the catacombs at all costs, so it's with no small amount of trepidation that you follow Barnes through its shadowy entrance. The catacombs are as ominous as you expected. Construction lights are placed at regular intervals throughout the space, but even they aren't enough to fully illuminate the deep shadows of the rugged, stone walls. Tunnels reach out like fingers in every direction, lined by stone sarcophaguses that stand guard on either side.

"Do you know where to go…?" you ask Barnes, hoping that he can't hear the tremor in your voice.

"Yeah, this way."

You follow him, pushing the cart from behind as he pulls from the front. Your footsteps echo strangely off the uneven walls, occasionally making it sound like there is someone behind you. Rats scurry underfoot, eager to get out of your way. Barnes swears and punts one twenty feet after it scampers onto his foot.

He leads you down one of the many winding tunnels until the narrow hall opens into a yawning cavern.

You learn right then what happened to the other Nibelheim survivors. Rows upon rows of mako tanks surround you, each one containing a person. There's a woman with gray hair. A boy who still carries baby fat in his cheeks. A girl with freckles across her nose. A man with calloused hands. You stop dead in your tracks.

Barnes grunts, caught off guard by the sudden increase in weight he has to pull. He looks back at you, irritated.

"What the he-…oh. First time seeing them?"

"I…I didn't know." you whisper, your eyes are glued to the survivors. One still has soot on his chin from the fire.

Barnes grimaces. "Yeah, there's about fifty of them. Shinra couldn't have any tattletales. They're in stasis until Hojo decides what to do with them."

"Why are you here, Barnes?" The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it.

Barnes looks away. "Does it matter? Stay out of my shit, I'll stay out of yours. Let's set this thing down.

You help him unload the treadmill and rejoin the others.

You lose track of how many trips it takes to empty the gym, but each one of you is barely on speaking terms with one another by the time you're finished. No one escaped the day without being called an unkind name or without returning the insults in kind. You're sweaty, bruised, dusty, and beyond ready for a shower, so you make a beeline for the stairs as soon as the carts are put away.

Hojo intercedes you before you can even leave the lab.

"My office. Now."

Your heart freezes in your chest. You know exactly what this is about. With feet made of lead, you step into his office. The door shuts behind you with a _snick_.

Hojo motions for you to sit. You do. He takes his own place behind his desk. The jar containing Cloud's mother's eyes sits on the corner. They stare up at you. You try to not stare back.

Hojo angles his computer monitor towards you. The screen shows an image of you lying unconscious by Cloud and Zack's cell. Your insides grow cold.

"Sir…I can explain. I…I was worried abo-…"

You're cut off as Hojo strikes his keyboard to play the security camera footage. You wince as you watch yourself stagger into the frame and go sprawling in front of Cloud and Zack's cell. Your drunken rambling is barely coherent, interlaced with sobs and hiccups. It's incredibly pathetic. You listen to Zack's quiet pleading. Your hesitation. Then your agreement. It's damning footage made even worse when you lurch towards the control panel, arms outstretched to the point of throwing you off balance. You go down hard, your head smacks the concrete, and you lie still. Hojo stops the video. You sit stiffly in your chair. There's nothing you can say to defend yourself.

"I would have thought that our conversation last week would discourage any rebellious inclinations you might have." Hojo's voice is ice.

"Sir, I'm- "

"Sympathetic to our test subjects, I know. You're not my first employee to have difficulty removing your emotions from work. You're not even the first to attempt freeing test subjects. I've dealt with it all before."

"What…what happened to those employees?"

"It depended on them, as your future depends on you. If you think you can control yourself, then you may continue working for me. I stand by what I said last week. I have neither the time nor patience to train a new employee, especially given that the President just approved our project, and you are good at what you do, even if your constant tears make me ill. But it seems that fear for your own life is not enough to keep you in line. That's fine. Maybe this will. I am thinking of making a trip to Mideel soon. Your family lives nearby, no? Perhaps it would be a good time for me to introduce myself to them."

All air leaves the room. You grip the chair's armrests hard enough to leave marks. "That won't be necessary."

"No? Really, it's no trouble for me to stop by."

"No, _please._ Don't…"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes… It won't… I'll do anything."

Hojo pierces you with a sharp look over his glasses. "Anything, hmm? Good. I'm going to hold you to that. Now, finally, I don't care what you do on your own time. If you want to drink yourself unconscious every night, or even start shooting up mako, that's up to you. But the moment your personal habits affect your work, I will make that trip to Mideel…or wherever your family is, should you happen to prompt them to relocate. Understood?"

"…sir."

"Dismissed."

Julia alone is in the lab when you exit Hojo's office. You expect her to sneer at you as usual, but there's a flicker of something in her otherwise cold eyes as you walk past. Pity? Sympathy? Understanding?

Whatever it is, you don't want it. You take the stairs two at a time until you're on the third floor, shut tight in your room. Your heart is in overdrive and your body won't stop shaking. You pace around, narrowly avoiding knocking your wilting houseplant off of the windowsill. You dump a day-old, half-full glass of water into the pot and make another trip around the room. The floorboards groan underneath you.

That's it.

You step into the early-evening air. There's a bite to it that signals an approaching winter. No longer wanting to chance stepping foot on the road that leads to Nibelheim, you search the manor's grounds for an entrance for a path. You find one.

Long, dried lichen nearly obscures a small garden gate that's nestled between the tall, iron fence that wraps around the property. The lichen brushes your face as you step through and find yourself on a narrow footpath that winds up towards the mountains. The first switchback leaves you breathless. Good. You want the challenge.

Hojo has you, hook, line, and sinker. _Gods, what was that last night?!_ You had already planned on falling in line to save your own skin, so what had possessed you to risk it all? The whiskey, that's gotta be it. You weren't thinking clearly, you let your emotions get the best of you. It cannot happen again. You resolve to pour every bottle of alcohol you can find down the drain when you get back. You can't afford any more missteps, not with your family on the line. Bile rises in your throat as you picture them in Hojo's custody, cowering in a cell, floating motionless in mako, writhing on a table while their insides are scooped out. You wrap your arms around yourself, digging your nails into your skin. You're not going to let that happen.

You rise higher and higher, the mansion becoming toy-like down below. The air is thin; you have to work for every breath you take. The sun has set beyond the mountains and the first faint stars appear in the sky. Memories of stargazing with your mom and sister come unbidden to your mind. Your mom would spread her mother's handmade quilt out in the middle of the field to protect you from the evening dew. You and your sister were in charge of making popcorn to bring along, although you both would eat most of it before even getting outside. You wonder if your mom and sister will take Evan star gazing one day.

You pick up the phone and call your mom.

"Thank goodness!" she breathes when she picks up. "I was so worried! How are you? What's going on? Where have you been?"

"Hey, Mom." your voice is tight.

"What's the matter?"

"Noth-,"

"Don't lie to me." she interrupts. "I think I know my own kid well enough to know when something's wrong."

"Mom…"

"It has something to do with your job, doesn't it?"

Perceptive, as always. You've never been able to hide anything from her.

"I can't…I don't want to talk about it. I wanted to check in on you." you say, hoping to change the subject. "How are you doing? How's dad?"

"We're worried about you. We want to know what's going on. Please, tell me."

"It's noth-"

"I said don't lie to me!" Her voice becomes unusually brittle like it always does when she's on the verge of crying.

"…I can't talk about it."

"Of course you can. You can tell me anything, no matter what. I will always love you."

"No, it's not… I can't tell you." You're shaking your head even though she can't see you. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just can't."

"Is this about your father…?" she clears her throat and waits for her voice to steady itself. "It's okay if you need to come home. He doesn't care if he loses his medication. We want you to be happy above anything else. I'll be okay too, alright? Sweetheart, it will be fine."

"I can't come home."

"Why? What's stopping you?"

"I just can't."

"…what do they have on you?"

"…"

"That's it, isn't it? Shinra has something on you, right?"

You sink onto a cold boulder and bow your head, pressing a hand over your eyes. "…just leave it. Please."

"What are they going to do to you if you quit? Really, sweetheart, whatever it is, it can't be worse than this. Something is killing you, and it's killing me."

"Mom…" Your voice breaks. " _Please_ , leave it, okay? Please."

"…I just want you home." There are tears in her voice. She's crying now. "I want you home and I want you to be okay. I don't know what's going on with you, but I want you to be okay."

Sorrow wells up from your chest and renders you mute. You squeeze your eyes shut as your face twists into a mask of grief. You want so desperately to be next to her, tucked under her arm like when you were a kid. You want to be okay too, but you're not sure if that's possible anymore.

"Don't do anything rash. Talk to us. Me, your dad, your sister. Please. We are here for you."

"I will, Mom."

"Promise?"

"…"

" _Promise?"_

"I'll…I'll try."

"I love you so much."

"I love you too."

It's twilight by the time you get back to the mansion. You grab the bottles of alcohol from your room and head to the bathroom with every intention of pouring them down the drain. Then, for good measure, you'd do the same to every bottle remaining in the entertainment room down the hall. But…now that you're looking at the bottles in your hands, there's not that much whiskey left…maybe you could just finish that off. And the sealed bottle of rum does look good… It would be a shame to let it go to waste. It's not like you had to drink it in one sitting. Last night was a fluke. You let yourself go too far. You know your limit now. There's more at stake, so you'll be more careful. So why shouldn't you keep it...?

The alcohol gets tucked back in your room.

The next morning, Hojo teaches you, Clark, and Julia how to propagate S-cells from the samples he routinely collected from Sephiroth back in Midgar. Project S-II will require an abundance of S-cells, so it's important that you all know how to make more, given that the source for S-cells is dead. You also practice creating slurries of S-cells for infusions and injections. It takes you eight tries, but you finally master the art of reaching a concentration of S-cells that Hojo is satisfied with.

The new equipment for the gym arrives shortly after and you spend another sweaty, breathless day hauling it down to the lab. Julia's finger gets crushed underneath a crate, while Dom gets hit in the ribs with a training sword that Barnes inexpertly twirls in an attempt to show off. Everyone leaves the lab irritated at the end of the day, but the facilities are now fully operational.

It's not until you're in bed kicking back the last of the whiskey that you realize the anesthesia you snuck into Hojo's supply order mysteriously vanished upon arrival.

The next day, you water your plant before heading downstairs (you feel guilty about letting it wilt) and run into Dom in the kitchen. His nose is still bandaged and the bruises under his eyes are even darker than they were a few days ago. He glances at you and tops off his mug with the last of the coffee. Ugh, you'll have to make a new batch. Asshole.

Hojo begins the day by ordering Julia and Clark to boot up the data recording equipment in the gym and you to remove Cloud's stitches before taking him to the gym.

You purposefully seek Barnes', rather than Dom's, assistance. Cloud and Zack melt into the back shadows of the cell when you approach.

"Cloud?" you call hesitantly. "I have to take your stitches out. Can you come with me?"

Cloud doesn't move.

"Hey," Barnes barks. "You were just asked to come out here pretty damn nicely. If _I_ have to ask, I won't be so nice."

"I promise, I'm just removing your stitches." you say, hoping to coax Cloud out peacefully before Barnes electrocutes him. "That's all."

Cloud steps forward into the light. His eye is still bruised, but it's no longer swollen shut. "I don't trust you."

"You can trust me to shock you unconscious if you don't come with us _now_." Barnes interjects before you can respond. "Come on. Out."

"…"

Barnes frowns and reaches for the controller on his belt.

" _No!_ Don't…" Cloud says quickly. He takes a shaky, deep breath and steps towards the cell door. "Fine."

Zack begins to follow him.

"Nuh-uh, not you." Barnes tells Zack. "You're staying here."

"Like hell I am. I go where he goes." Zack says.

"You'll join him soon," you start to say, but Barnes mutters _"for fuck's sake"_ under his breath and presses the button on his controller. He doesn't hold it down for long, but it's enough to send Cloud and Zack to their knees.

" _You're_ staying." Barnes jabs a finger at Zack "And _you're_ coming with us." He jabs a finger at Cloud. "Now."

Cloud and Zack look at each other and something passes between them. "I'll be okay." Cloud says softly. "It's fine."

Zack sighs, closes his eyes, and nods.

"You, back corner." Barnes tells Zack. "You move, and you know what happens. You stay put, and we'll all have a great time. Your choice."

Zack retreats to the back wall, but you see how much it costs him to let Cloud leave without him.

Barnes places one hand on the shock button, one hand on the cell door's control panel. "Step up to the door." he says to Cloud.

Cloud does. Barnes opens the cell. You hold your breath while Cloud steps through, expecting Zack to make an attempt to get through. The moment of tension quickly passes, though, as the door shuts lightning-fast behind Cloud the moment he crosses the threshold.

Barnes jerks his head towards the lab. "After you."

With a final glance back at Zack, Cloud starts off down the hall. You and Barnes follow a safe distance behind, one hand hovering over the shock controller just in case.

"You gotta stop being so nice to them." Barnes says to you, making no attempt to lower his voice. Cloud's shoulders tense. "You can't go around asking for them to do stuff. You'll never get anywhere. You gotta firm up."

You're saved from thinking of an appropriate response when Cloud stalls as he enters the lab. His eyes lock onto the operating table. He starts shaking.

Barnes scowls. "Move. Get on the table. Go."

But Cloud seems to have lost the ability to voluntarily move forward. He takes a step back. Barnes shocks him. Zack's cry of pain echoes down the hall and that, more than being electrocuted himself, seems to pull Cloud back. He takes a trembling step towards the table.

"Either you get on or I make you get on." Barnes says when Cloud, at the table's edge, stops again. Silent tears roll down Cloud's face. He places a hand on the table and then withdraws it as if burnt. He shakes his head from side to side, although it doesn't seem like he's aware that he's doing it.

With a frustrated sigh, Barnes lifts his hand to shock Cloud again.

"Wait," You throw out a hand to stop him. "Cloud, could you just sit on the table? You don't have to lie down."

Barnes snorts incredulously. "Seriously? What did I just tell you? You call this firming up?"

You shoot him a glare. "I'm just pulling stitches. There's no need to restrain him."

"Are you kidding? Do you want a broken nose like Dom?"

"If he tries anything, you can shock him. Cloud, can you get on the table, please?"

Cloud casts you a dubious glance. You offer him an expression that you hope inspires trust. Cloud works his jaw a few times and then pulls himself onto the table. Shivers wrack his body.

"I'm going to grab my scissors and tweezers and bring them over." you tell him. "Can you sit near the edge? Yeah, that's perfect. Thanks."

You feel, rather than see, Barnes roll his eyes behind you.

You step towards Cloud, keeping your movements slow. Cloud shrinks in on himself, his shoulders rolling protectively over his chest, hands gripping the edge of the table tight.

"Can you sit up for me? I need to see your chest."

Cloud unfolds himself. He's still shaking. He flinches when you reach for the first stitch. "Easy," you murmur. "You need to stay still or these might tear."

He clenches his jaw, tightens his grip on the table, and nods. You try again.

One by one, you pull the stitches out. If the sensation of rough thread pulling through his skin bothers Cloud, he doesn't show it. He remains tense the entire time, eyes locked firmly onto the floor. You remove the last stitch.

"There, all done." you say, stepping back. "Let me clean these for you and you'll be all set."

Unlike Zack, whose skin is completely healed, Cloud's chest is marred by thick, ropy scar. It's possible that the mako treatments might make it fade over time, but it's likely that he'll have this mark for life. You know that the chances of having it disappear entirely aren't improved by the procedures Hojo has planned for him.

Dom passes through the lab on his way to collect Zack, blowing a kiss at Cloud as he does so. Cloud scowls, his body becoming even more rigid, which you didn't think was possible. Dom and Zack reappear together moments later. Zack's relief upon seeing Cloud is palpable.

"Brought your boyfriend in for you." Dom tells Cloud. "Can I get a thank-you kiss?"

"Gods, Dom, leave him alone." Barnes groans. "Can't you focus on your job?"

"This is my job. Isn't it great?"

"I'm with Barnes," you mutter, wanting to put Dom in his place, but also not wanting to give Dom too much cause to retaliate against you. He might be your coworker, but that doesn't mean he doesn't scare you.

Dom's expression grows sour. "Fuck off, both of you. Neither of you are any fun. C'mon." he shoves Zack forward towards the gym.

Zack stumbles forward, expression murderous. He glances at the door that leads to freedom, then at Cloud, who gives him a near-imperceptible nod.

Stars blossom in your vision as blinding pain erupts across your jaw. You stagger backwards, toppling over a tray of surgical utensils. Over the clattering of metal on cement, you hear Zack and Cloud screaming. Dom is laughing.

" _Ahaha_ , you think you had a fucking chance?!"

You swallow and taste blood. You bit through your cheek. Your jaw is crooked and stiff. You disentangle yourself from the metal tray and pull yourself to your feet.

Cloud and Zack are thrashing on the floor while Dom stands over them, finger pressed hard against the shock button. You bring your hand to your jaw. It's already hot and swelling.

Cloud hit you. The same voiceless, terrified Cloud who flinched under your touch just minutes ago had punched you hard enough to knock one of your teeth loose. Your tongue toys with the tooth as you watch Cloud and Zack gasp for air between gut-wrenching screams.

"You good?" Barnes asks.

"I…I think so." It's hard to form words.

Barnes gives you a wry smile. "Told you he should've been tied down."

"…I guess so."

You watch Cloud and Zack writhe on the ground. It's hard to dredge up sympathy while your jaw howls in pain, but, as the seconds pass, you feel increasingly uncomfortable with how long Dom is holding down the button.

"Okay, that's enough." Barnes says. "Come on, Dom, knock it off."

"What, and give them another chance to escape? I don't think so."

"They're not going anywhere." Barnes says flatly. "And the boss needs them in somewhat good condition today. Stop."

Dom growls and mashes the button one more time for good measure before letting it go. Zack and Cloud lie gasping on the floor. "Try me again," Dom taunts. "There's nothing I'd like more."

Zack and Cloud barely seem to have heard him. They struggle to their feet, swaying unsteadily like they might collapse again at any moment. Cloud flashes Zack a questioning look. Zack grimaces and shakes his head. Barnes motions for them to move down the hall towards the gym. "Get moving."

While they limp to the gym, you dash upstairs to grab a bag of ice for your jaw. It's hard to not play with your loose tooth, but you force yourself to stop poking at it with your tongue lest it actually falls out. By the time you get back downstairs, Cloud and Zack have been released into the gym. You take your place in the observation deck above the gym with Hojo, Julia, and Clark.

Hojo puts Cloud and Zack through their paces, measuring their speed, strength, and agility, which will be important markers of how well their bodies respond to S- and J-cells over time. Zack, unsurprisingly, surpasses Cloud in every area. Although Cloud is in fairly decent shape for an average person, he looks pathetic next to Zack. A permanent sneer affixes itself to Hojo's face. Despite the high expectations he put on Cloud in his report to the President, it's clear that Hojo's hopes of Cloud ever becoming like Sephiroth are crumbling before his eyes.

During the VR combat portion, Cloud barely lasts a minute against an entry-level opponent. Zack angrily rips off his headset.

"Come on, that wasn't fair." he yells. "Cloud's barely had any swordsmanship training. You can't expect him to win that fight."

"We didn't expect him to win." Hojo replies snidely. "Back to your own fight, TS-2."

Hours later, Zack's feet drag as he is escorted back to his cell. Cloud is moving so stiffly that, if you didn't know any better, you would think he's been given a paralyzing agent. Zack casts a longing eye towards the lab's exit, but only hesitates for a fraction of a second before moving past it. Cloud doesn't have the energy to even lift his head. They collapse onto their beds the moment they reenter their cell.

You do the same once back in your room. Your jaw is throbbing fiercely and there's a ringing in your ears that won't go away. You're going to have a hell of a bruise come morning. You pop two aspirins and wash it down with a swig of rum from the bottle you just opened.

You drift in and out of sleep all night, the pain in your jaw waking you up every time you shift on your pillow. At 5 AM, you admit that you've slept as much as possible and get up to start your day. You were right; your jaw developed a magnificent bruise during the night. Damn it, Cloud. And after you'd been so gentle with his stitches too. You're immediately disgusted at yourself for being irritated with Cloud and expecting his gratitude when _you_ are responsible for giving him stitches in the first place. If you were in his place, you would punch you too.

You shower, eat, and make a pot of coffee for the team before heading to the lab for some early-morning computer work before the others get up. Once there, you find that you're not the only early riser.

Cloud and Zack's low voices are especially audible from your desk at this early hour.

"…parry, _then_ counterstrike."

"I'm not going to be very much help unless I get a gun, Zack."

"Don't be so sure - you showed some natural talent in there yesterday."

"But when am I going to have the chance to practice again? I'm telling you, unless I can get a gun, I'm going to be dead weight."

"And unless we can get these things off our legs, I'm going to be dead weight too. But that's a problem for later. What we can do _now_ is work on your footwork."

"Okay, fine. … _agh_ , shit. I'm so sore." You hear bedsprings groan as Cloud sinks back onto his bed.

"Same. …maybe we'll work on footwork later. What was that yesterday? I've never been worked so hard, and Angeal was no pushover!"

"Who knows? But I'd rather run on a treadmill all day than…" Cloud's voice trails off.

"…yeah. Me too."

The lab slowly fills with your coworkers. Clark winces sympathetically when he sees your bruised jaw, while Barnes gives you a look that says _told you so_. Hojo is in a disturbingly good mood, positively skipping as he enters the office. When he's happy, it's always at another's expense, and, today, it is at Cloud and Zack's. Project S-II officially begins today, and Hojo wants to start by introducing S-cells to Cloud and Zack's circulatory system. An IV drip will pump them full of a low-level toxin designed to damage blood vessels. After sufficient damage has occurred, the drip bags will be switched out to ones full of S-cells. If Hojo's research is correct, the damaged blood vessels will integrate S-cells into their tissue as they regenerate, aided by a final drip of mako.

Given yesterday's events, you anticipate a scuffle to get Cloud and Zack onto the tables. Dom and Barnes aren't taking any chances, though. With Hojo's permission, Dom and Barnes inject Cloud and Zack with a mild sedative before handcuffing them and leading them into the lab. With two out of six lab members sporting Cloud-induced bruises, the extra precautions feel necessary.

Clark and Julia hook Cloud and Zack up to IVs while you ensure the drip bags of S-cells and on hand nearby. You expect Hojo to mark the official start of Project S-II with a few commemorative words, but he simply starts the IV drips, waits a few minutes to make sure everything is running smoothly and disappears into his office. Then, there's just waiting.

No one seems interested in hanging around the lab watching nothing happen, so you all break the day into shifts. You volunteer for first shift, wanting to get it over with so you can hopefully snag an afternoon nap when you're done. The sedative Dom and Barnes gave Cloud and Zack hasn't worn off yet, so there isn't a whole lot of active monitoring you can do. You begin entering the data gathered in the gym yesterday into the computer. It's boring, monotonous, and, quite frankly, you don't want to do it. The right music might make it tolerable, though. With a quick glance around the room to confirm that none of your coworkers are present, you pop in your earbuds. The music makes a huge difference. Head swaying slightly to the beat, you immediately lose yourself in the work, until…

"What are you listening to?"

You stiffen. Zack's sedative has worn off. Uncomfortable, you keep your eyes on your computer and continue typing, pretending as though you can't hear him over the music.

"What?" Zack asks bitterly. "Don't want to talk to a lowly lab rat, is that it?"

You slowly, guiltily, pull an earbud from your ear.

"It's a playlist my sister made for me." you admit. Made as a gift when you left for school, it's your go-to whenever you're missing home.

"That's awesome." Zack says. "What songs are on there?"

You list a few.

"Nice, you've got some good ones. I haven't heard any of those in a minute… Mind playing them out loud for us?"

"Uh…" You look around the lab. It's still empty. What's the harm in it? "Sure."

You unplug your earbuds and let your phone play the music out of its speakers.

Zack closes his eyes to take the music in. You turn back to your data entry and try to pretend like there is nothing unusual about a Shinra scientist playing music for two human test subjects.

The music must be a welcome distraction for them. Every drop of poison entering their veins is slowly tearing them apart from the inside. Their bodies periodically spasm, teeth grinding together, fists clenching. A roadmap of red, irritated veins rises above the surface of their skin. Before long, they're drenched in sweat, although they shiver as if they're freezing. They don't scream, but you occasionally catch a whimper of pain or sharp intake of breath above the music.

Your sister's playlist ends and Cloud and Zack start making requests. You oblige. There's one song Zack wants to hear on repeat. It's not particularly sad, but you notice a tear leak from Zack's eyes nevertheless.

"…is this one of your favorites?" you ask after it finishes playing for the third time.

"It reminds me of someone special to me."

"Who?"

"Aerith. My girlfriend."

"…pretty name." you say, because you can't think of anything else. Your mind conjures up an image of a woman crying in front of an empty grave. If only she knew…

"Yeah, like her…" Zack blinks a few times. You look away as to not notice his fresh wave of tears. Zack clears his throat. "Do you have anyone special?"

The question catches you so off-guard that you can't help but give a short laugh. "No, never had the time. Med school was my full-time everything."

"That's right. You studied to become a doctor."

So some of your drunken ramblings had made sense to Zack after all. Zack clears his throat again. "So, ah, have you thought about what I said?"

"…?"

"About me protecting you if you get us out. We can leave here together."

"Oh. That." You clasp your hands together tightly and stare at the floor. "I can't."

"…"

You feel the need to justify yourself. "Hojo threatened my family."

"…I understand."

"I'm so sorry." you blurt out. Your apology sounds so small and hollow, floating like dust above Cloud and Zack's restrained, scarred bodies.

Neither of them responds. There's nothing to say. What did you expect them to say? _It's okay? We forgive you?_

"Thanks for the music." Zack finally says.

Clark relieves you from your post a short while later. You head back to your room for a nap, but the sleep won't come. This time, you know it has nothing to do with the pain in your jaw.

Hojo leaves Cloud and Zack alone for the next few days, giving their bodies time to process the influx of S-cells introduced to them. At the end of those few days, Hojo draws blood samples for analysis. Zack shows no indication that S-cells were ever introduced to his body. Hojo attributes this to Zack's SOLDIER enhancements which likely enable his body to fight off invading cells. He resolves to double the concentration of S-cells Zack receives in the future. Cloud's samples, however, come back showing marginal traces of S-cells. Hojo is elated. Some of his hope that Project S-II might be successful is restored. Cloud's progress is enough to convince him that it's time to move to the next procedure: introducing S-cells to major organs.

You kick back the last of the rum the morning of the procedure in hopes of numbing yourself to what's ahead. You know exactly how much to drink to give yourself a light buzz, but not impair your movements or speech. You eat a bagel with copious amounts of peanut butter to cover the smell of alcohol on your breath.

You load syringes of S-cells while Dom and Barnes lead Cloud and Zack to the operating tables. You hope that the sedative lasts long enough to keep them somewhat unaware during the procedure but know better than to actually expect that. A mild sedative won't block out the pain of blunt-force trauma.

A highly technical, scientific tool, called a metal pipe, would be used to cause widespread internal damage. After the body registers the damage, Hojo would open Cloud and Zack up and introduce S-cells to the affected organs. This incision will be smaller than the one Hojo made during their full autopsy, but that's hardly saying much. You can think of at least a dozen less traumatic ways to achieve the same result, but Hojo won't listen.

"Sir, there is no reason for them to be awake during the procedure." you urge him quietly. "I _insist_ that we sedate them."

Hojo continues typing on his computer without even looking up at you.

"Sir, we would be able to be much more precise if they were unconscious. We might even get better results."

Hojo continues to ignore you.

Clark looks as though he's going to open his mouth to voice his agreement, but Dom cuts him off.

"Oh, shut up, you fucking bleeding heart." Dom sneers. "You ready for us, doc?"

"Yes. Proceed."

Dom and Barnes step towards the tables, Barnes with cool indifference towards Zack, Dom with unmasked glee towards Cloud. They raise metal pipes above their heads. Cloud and Zack barely have time to register what's coming before Barnes and Dom slam the pipes down onto their exposed stomachs.

Barnes isn't skilled enough to cast silence _and_ swing a pipe at the same time, so the air is immediately filled with ragged screams that rip themselves from Cloud and Zack's throats. They writhe, pulling hard against their restraints, trying to twist themselves away. There's nowhere to go.

Your knuckles go white as you wrap your shaking fingers around your surgical tray's handles, pretending to be very interested in your tools so you don't have to watch Cloud and Zack's skin turn purple and blue. Every thud of metal hitting flesh sounds like a gunshot to your ears.

It's over in a minute, but it feels like hours before Hojo finally calls Barnes and Dom off. He sets a timer for thirty minutes to give the damage adequate time to set in.

Zack and Cloud lay breathless on the table. Dom places his palm on Cloud's stomach which is riddled with angry, red welts. He laughs when Cloud's moans in pain as he digs his fingers into Cloud's sensitive flesh, running his hand from Cloud's collarbones to his hips.

"L-leave him alone." Zack pants.

"What, you want some?" Dom asks. He slaps Zack's stomach with an open palm, causing Zack to yelp. "Sorry, you're not my type."

"Leave 'em be." Barnes mutters. "You're sick, Dom."

"Mind your own fucking business, Barnes." Dom snarls. "The doc doesn't have an issue with it, do you, boss?"

Hojo waves a dismissive hand before going back to scribbling on his clipboard.

Those thirty minutes pass unbelievably slowly. Intense shades of vermillion, indigo, and violet blossom over Zack and Cloud's skin. When the time comes, you bring over the syringes of S-cells and take your place across from Hojo. You're just resolving to stare anywhere else but Zack so you don't have to watch Hojo tear him open when Hojo hands you the scalpel.

"You do it."

You blink, shocked. This is unprecedented. Hojo always preferred being in control. Why would he…? Ah. Of course. Zack and Cloud aren't the only ones being punished today. Hojo's lips curl into a self-satisfied grin as he watches your face crumple. You think you're going to be sick.

You glance down at Zack, now silenced by Barnes. He's staring resolutely at the ceiling, refusing to meet your eyes. You try to see him as Hojo does: TS-2, a specimen, a Shinra lab rat. It's impossible. This is Zack Fair, who once saved your life, who shares your taste in music, who has a girlfriend that he still loves.

You angrily blink back tears - they would only just amuse Hojo - and grit your teeth as you snatch the scalpel from Hojo's hand. Before you can overthink it, you plunge the scalpel into Zack's flesh. For all his prior stoicism, Zack's face twists into a silent howl of agony as you tear a window through skin and muscle to his insides. You're not as adept as Hojo is at cutting into conscious subjects, and you struggle to make clean cuts as Zack spasms beneath you. Cloud shakes uncontrollably on the next table over, knowing that he is next.

Zack's insides are messy. The blows from the metal pipe left a significant amount of internal bleeding that would kill a normal person if left untreated. Hojo instructs you to shift Zack's organs around his abdominal cavity so he can inject S-cells into the strategic areas he outlined in his report. You do your best to look without seeing, but you can't ignore the sensation of hot, pulsing flesh through your latex gloves. With Zack silenced, the wet sound of intestines rubbing together is unnaturally loud in the still, stale air. Zack's tremors weaken until he goes limp underneath your hands. There are limits to even what a SOLDIER first class can endure. Hojo finishes administering the injections and asks Clark to stitch Zack up. Expecting Hojo to assign Julia to Cloud, you step back and seek out the nearest chair to sink into.

But your punishment isn't over yet. Rather than asking Julia, Hojo orders you to repeat the procedure on Cloud. "You said you'd do anything, didn't you?" he asks, a cold smiling playing on his lips.

Your legs threaten to give out on you when you stand up. You wish you had had more rum that morning. You wish you were numb. You wish that the hands slicing through Cloud's skin belonged to someone else. Like Zack, Cloud thrashes violently under your blade, causing you to accidentally nick one of his arteries. Blood shoots like a geyser into your face. You recoil, bringing your hand automatically to your face to rub blood out of your eye. Hojo curses at you as he uses clamps to stop the bleeding. You resist the urge to vomit as the taste of blood enters your mouth.

Cloud eventually goes still under your knife too. You hate that your first thought is to hope that he died, but, you reason, it would be kinder than staying alive. Hojo takes his time injecting Cloud's organs with S-cells. He seems to purposefully knock his hands against yours to push your hands deeper into Cloud's abdomen. You swallow bile.

At long last, Hojo withdraws from Cloud and tells Clark to stitch him up. Zack has already been moved back to his mako tank, so Dom and Barnes hang around to transfer Cloud once Clark is finished. You and Julia clean the tables and sanitize the surgical equipment. Cloud's blood, now dried on your face, itches like hell. You have to actively restrain yourself from sprinting to the bathroom the moment Hojo releases you for the day.

You barely make it to the toilet before retching, the taste of vomit and blood mixing unpleasantly on your tongue. You catch your blood-stained reflection in the mirror, your hollow eyes staring out from a rust-red mask. You don't recognize yourself. You take an excessively long shower in boiling hot water, scrubbing your skin until it's raw. You seek out the bar cart in the abandoned entertainment room and snag a bottle of vodka. Never mind your promise to quit drinking after you finished the rum. You pound back shot after shot until, finally, the room falls away beneath you. You revel in the numbness.

You wake up around midnight, still blind drunk, but needing to piss. You stumble past Clark's room, his door cracked wide enough for you to see him sitting on the edge of his bed. He's staring at a fistful of white pills in his palm. You tip forward to lean heavily against his doorframe, pushing open his door with a lazy knock.

"Y'good?" you slur, a deep part of your brain recognizing that this is cause for concern.

"No." Clark replies bitterly. "Not really."

You stare at him. He stares at the pills.

"Me neither." you say. You stagger backwards a few steps and continue down the hall to the bathroom. You have to piss.

You wake up the next morning hungover as shit, but you have the vague feeling that you should check on Clark, although you can't remember why. He's in the lab when you finally drag yourself downstairs, though, so he's fine. Probably.

Just like you. You're fine.

Probably.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, friends! Sorry for the wait. You can expect one more chapter and an epilogue before we wrap up this fanfic. It’s all written, just in need of editing. Thanks again for all of the kind words you all have left. I’m starting to run out of steam, but when I reread your comments, I am re-energized! Thank you!
> 
> Content warning for this chapter: Death & non-graphic assault

Time takes on an unreal, nightmarish quality as days blur into weeks, and weeks into months. Life falls into a toxic, soul-crushing routine. You wake up, cure your hangover with coffee, experiment on humans, and drink yourself to sleep. It's not much of a life, but you're surviving.

You've given up on lying to yourself about quitting alcohol. What's the point of thinking _This bottle is the last bottle…no, this bottle is the last bottle…no, this one is…_ when you know damn well it isn't going to be? Getting drunk is the last thing you derive any semblance of peace from, so why the hell would you give that up? Besides, you've held true to your promise of not letting alcohol compromise your work in any way. You might need a shot of vodka to steady your shaking hands some mornings, sure, but other than that, you've become a model little Shinra scientist. You show up, shut up, and carve up Cloud and Zack as directed. When you get back to your room, you fantasize about blowing yourself up too. You understand now why Julia presents herself the way she does. On the rare occasions you can bring yourself to meet your gaze in the mirror, you recognize Julia's trademark, cold stare looking back at you.

You've cut yourself off from your family, despite your promises to remain in touch. Their voicemails and texts go unheard and unread. You shoot your mom a text once a week to let her know you're alive. She almost always responds by immediately trying to call you. You watch your phone ring itself into silence while kicking back your drink of choice and pretending to be a heartless, unfeeling machine.

Except it's all an act. Every morning you wake up on a damp pillow, dried tears on your cheeks.

The temperature continues to plummet and the snow on the peaks of the mountains creeps towards the valley every day. Your hikes become shorter and shorter until, after two feet of snow gets dumped on the valley, you're forced to conclude that your hikes must be put on hold until spring. Despite the mansion's expansive square footage, claustrophobia rears its ugly head when you think about how you'll be stuck in there with no one but your colleagues for company until the weather warms. But you shouldn't complain. You could be stuck in a cell.

The Shinra Mansion, as old and rundown as it is, is nearly impossible to heat. You search other rooms to find additional quilts to add to your bed. You also move your plant away from the window and towards the heater so its leaves don't rub against the frosted glass at night. The wool sweater your mom knitted for you becomes part of your every-day uniform, and, when it gets even colder, you consider breaking your estrangement to request home-knitted socks to match. But, again, you shouldn't complain. While you and your colleagues get to wrap yourselves in blankets and layer on warm clothing, Cloud and Zack have to make do with what they have. You bring two heavy comforters from spare rooms down to them, but, even still, Cloud and Zack have to place their mattresses next to each other on the floor and sleep close together for warmth. This is an endless source of entertainment for Dom who teases them mercilessly for it.

"So do you take turns at being the little spoon, or…? Oh, what am I saying? We all know Blondy's the bottom bitch."

"So, tell me, Zack. Is he as good of a fuck as he looks? Haven't had a chance to take my turn yet."

"If you ever get too cold down here, Cloud, my bed's always open to you."

The only consolation is that as Dom grows bolder, Barnes grows more vigilant.

"Goddamn, can't I go to the bathroom without you being there to hold my dick?" you hear Dom yell one night. "Give me my fucking space."

You don't hear Barnes' response, but you doubt that Barnes left Dom alone to go to the bathroom in peace. You're not sure why Barnes, who regularly restrains Cloud for torture, is so adamant about keeping Dom away from him. Barnes definitely isn't bothered by Cloud's screams for mercy while Hojo is cutting into him. He's comfortable standing by, scrolling through his phone as if everything is normal. But when it comes to Dom, Barnes' cool indifference hardens. Barnes always tries to reach Cloud first to be his handler, but sometimes Dom beats him to it.

With each passing day, the fight is slowly draining from Cloud and Zack. There's only so many times a person can fight, be electrocuted into submission, and then still have the desire to fight again. Everyone still keeps a hand on the shock remotes when Cloud and Zack are being moved, but the frequency at which they are used dwindles. When Dom gets to Cloud before Barnes, he uses Cloud's growing apathy to his advantage, handling Cloud in ways that _only just_ stop short of assault.

"Knock it off, Dom!" Barnes finally snaps. "Can't you fucking keep your hands to yourself?"

"Can't _you_ get off my fucking case? For a WalMarket slut, you're prude as shi-"

Barnes abandons Zack and goes to throw Dom against the wall by his throat, but Dom twists out of his grip and knocks Barnes away. Barnes lunges at him and clips him across the chin. Dom staggers back, holding his jaw, but he's laughing.

"Touchy subject?"

Barnes is shaking with anger. Pure fury laces his words. "Don't…don't you _ever_ bring that shit up again."

Dom laughs again. "Thought I wouldn't find out, didn't you? What? Don't be shy! Everyone's gotta make a living somehow, even if it means getting on your knees every no-"

Barnes launches himself at Dom with a roar. Dom sidesteps and trips Barnes who goes sprawling, but is on his feet in seconds ready to tackle Dom. Before he can, Hojo steps between them.

"Barnes, you're done for the day."

Barnes looks murderous as if he might attack Hojo to get to Dom. He manages to pull himself back.

"But _he_ _started-"_

"I did not see Dom leave his specimen unattended to attack a colleague." Hojo says. "I saw _you_ do that. So you're done for the day. We'll discuss tomorrow if you're fit to continue working for me. Dismissed."

For a heartbeat, you think Barnes really is about to attack Hojo. Instead, he grits his teeth and shoulders his way past Dom out of the lab. Dom waves goodbye to him, mockingly. "Bye, bitch boy!"

"As for _you_ ," Hojo says pointedly. "I expect more professionalism, or we're going to have the same conversation. Are we clear?"

The smirk dries up off of Dom's face. "Yes, sir." he mutters before steering Cloud and Zack back to their cell.

Hojo ends up keeping Barnes on the team, but Barnes starts giving Dom more space. Dom becomes more subdued, especially in Hojo's presence.

The winter solstice passes and you breathe a sigh of relief knowing that the days will, at long last, be getting longer. There are still months of winter ahead, but at least it won't be dark when you enter the lab in the morning and leave it at night for much longer. You're looking forward to sunlight. So is your plant, who is losing leaves at an alarming rate. The weak, winter, Nibel sun isn't enough for it. That, or you keep forgetting to water it.

The holidays approach without fanfare, but the primal craving for family, love, and togetherness you always get at this time of year eventually leads you to breaking down and listening to your family's voicemails and reading their texts. Your sister has sent you pictures of Evan in festive onesies, crumpling wrapping paper, and holding your mom's homemade cookies between his two, chubby hands. It already hurts to be missing this time of year with your family, but it kills you that you're missing out on so many of your nephew's firsts.

You try to lose track of the days so you won't know exactly which tradition you are missing out on with your family at any given moment. For a while, you're nearly successful. Aside from the difference in where you cut into Cloud and Zack, the days are all the same. It's impossible to completely lose track of time, though.

You're hauling yourself to the third floor, your feet sore and slick with Zack's blood. You want nothing more than to scald your skin off with a shower and down as many shots as it takes to make you pass out, but the faint sound of live piano music draws your attention. You've never heard piano music here. You didn't even know any of your coworkers could play. It's a traditional song that your family always listens to at this time of year. A lump clogs your throat as nostalgia sweeps over you. The wistful chords and warm melody don't belong in the Shinra Mansion. It's like finding a flower in the sewer.

The music pulls you down to the end of the hall where you find the last door slightly ajar. Music drifts out from behind it. Hesitantly, you push the door open. It's Clark. He's sitting at a dusty, upright piano that's tucked into the corner.

"I didn't know you played." you comment once he's finished with the piece.

"Huh?" Clark stiffens, then relaxes when he sees it's just you. "Oh, hey. Yeah, I used to play nonstop. I loved it. I, uh, actually wanted to be a concert pianist as a kid, but my dad wanted me to become a doctor. You know, 'do something useful and help people.'" Clark laughs bitterly. "So here I am. _'Helping'_ people." He rests his fingers on the keys. There is blood under his fingernails.

"You should play more."

"Ahh, I don't know. It doesn't feel right here. But I couldn't resist tonight… You know what day it is, yeah?"

"I've been doing my best to forget, actually."

"How's that working out for you?"

"It's not."

"Yeah, not for me either. …do you want to celebrate together?"

You sink into one of the musty armchairs near the piano. "I'd love to."

He starts playing again. You shut your eyes and pretend you're home.

The new year comes in hard and cold. Snow drifts pile high against the main floor's window frames. Going outside is out of the question for the simple reason that hardly anyone can get the front door open. Supplies get airdropped in from a helicopter once a month, first at Nibelheim's landing pad, then directly in the mansion's yard after the roads become impassable.

Tensions rise to an all-time high as cabin fever sets in. You increase the frequency of your breakfast shots to numb yourself for the day. Then, once that stops having much of an effect, you take another shot at lunch. No one seems to notice, except maybe Julia, whom you catch sniffing the empty glasses you leave in the kitchen sink with a disgusted expression. She doesn't say anything, though, and as long as you're not a stumbling idiot in the lab, Hojo doesn't comment either.

Limb by limb, bone by bone, organ by organ, Zack and Cloud are torn apart and put back together with S-cells. Barnes has gotten better at casting silence and can now maintain it for up to twelve minutes at a time, although he is weak and shaky after recasting it during longer procedures.

"Here," Clark hands Barnes an energy drink after Barnes collapses into a chair. His shirt clings to him, sticky with sweat. He accepts the drink gratefully, kicking it back while you finish stitching up Zack, who's only barely conscious. Julia sees to Cloud, who's fully unconscious, removing the metal cuff from his ankle before asking Dom to put him in the mako tank for recovery.

You all learned, through a heart-stopping incident where Zack nearly gained the upper hand on Dom and Barnes after being let up from the table, that the cuffs become useless when exposed to mako. (Incidentally, Dom and Barnes now carry guns for emergencies.) Now, you're all careful to remove the cuffs before you put Cloud or Zack into the tanks. Since it's standard procedure to subdue Cloud and Zack with sleeping gas before letting them out of the tanks, it's easy to put the cuffs back on when they're being moved to their cell. Julia locks the cuff and its key in a filing cabinet near the tanks.

"Thanks," you hear Barnes tell Clark breathlessly as he finishes the energy drink. "Appreciate it."

"Now that you're done having mommy nurse you back to health, can you give me a hand?" Dom asks, uncuffing Zack from the table. "Big boy didn't miss many meals."

Barnes rolls his eyes, but doesn't deign to give Dom a response.

As they put Zack in his tank, you can't help but think that Zack is looking less like the "big boy" Dom described him as. Next to Cloud he might look like the epitome of health, but now that you're taking a moment to actually study him closely, you can see he is fading. He's always been lean, but he's now more gaunt than you ever remember seeing him. There are dark circles under his eyes, accentuated by his ever-paling skin from lack of sunlight.

He's also less…Zack-like. Before, you remember Zack always being larger than life. There was a confidence in his posture and easy-going aura about him that drew people to him like a magnet. Now Zack is starting to shrink in on himself, avoiding eye contact and talking back less, especially when Cloud isn't around. Zack puts up a great act of being strong and unaffected for Cloud's sake, but you can see he's being beaten down.

Not that you would be able to tell, though, from the snippets of Cloud and Zack's conversations you catch from your desk. When they're in their cells, it can be difficult to concentrate on your work because of Zack's steady dialogue of stories, memories, and anything else he has on his mind. There's a forced optimism in his tone, which you know is for Cloud's sake. You have to admit that you enjoy it too.

"…and then she showed me this great restaurant in the Sector Five Slums. You wouldn't think it, but fried wererat is actually _super_ good."

"Don't they serve that to visitors from the Plate as a joke…?"

"They do?!"

"I'm pretty sure, yeah. Someone from basic training was from the Sector Five Slums and he told me that they offer it to people from the Plate as a 'Slums delicacy.' They laugh at people who are too polite to refuse."

Zack isn't daunted. "…well, they should consider making it a permanent addition to their menu. Because seriously! It was really good!"

You hear stories about Zack's mentor, Angeal, Zack's childhood in Gongaga, Zack's quest to build Aerith a cart for her business, Zack's mistakes as a SOLDIER Third Class, Zack, Zack, Zack, Zack…

But, honestly, you enjoy it, and you're pretty sure Cloud does too. You hear Cloud laugh for the first time after Zack's dramatic retelling of getting bucked off a chocobo. His laugh is quiet and soft, but genuine.

When the snow finally creeps back to the highest-most reaches of the mountains and it once again becomes safe for the van to travel to the helipad, Hojo take a trip back to Midgar for a board meeting. Your relief at the prospect of having a few Hojo-free days is cut short when he hands you, Julia, Clark, Dom, and Barnes a long list of tasks to complete while he's gone. Clearly, he doesn't want to give anyone a paid vacation.

You all waste no time checking things off the list once he's gone, hoping to wrap things up quickly enough to buy one day off before Hojo returns. Dom and Barnes are assigned to maintenance tasks, like patching the roof, sealing leaky pipes, and other physical chores that Barnes describes as "fucking exhausting." Clark and Julia are spared from physical labor, but instead are given the mind-numbing, tedious task of moving old data to the new database Shinra is upgrading to. You, on the other hand, have been instructed to thoroughly clean the lab _and_ gym. All bloodstains, mako spills, dust, and clutter must go. It's disgusting, tiring work, and by the end of the day you have to actively fight your eyes to stop them from closing by themselves. There's no way you're going to be able to finish everything and buy yourself a free day. Nearly sleepwalking, you get back to the third floor, splash water on your face, and collapse into your bed. You're nearly asleep when you remember you left your phone in the lab.

_Fuck.  
_

If you had anything else to use as an alarm, then you would have left it there and gone to sleep. But you don't have anything else, and you know you'd sleep well-past noon without it, risking not finishing Hojo's assignment before he gets back. You're on thin ice as it is; you can't afford another strike.

Groaning, you haul yourself out of bed onto sore feet and pull a sweatshirt over your pajamas. You slip your sockless feet into your shoes and trudge downstairs half asleep, intent on grabbing your phone and getting back into bed as soon as possible. You grumble to yourself as the meager warmth you'd managed to accrue during your shower leaves you in the perpetually frigid mansion air. Snowflakes pelt the windows. A spring blizzard has moved in.

You descend the staircase to the basement, not thinking much of anything other than how much you'd rather still be in bed, when the sound of muffled yelling snaps your attention to the lab. At the end of the hall, you catch a fleeting glimpse through the doorway of Dom dragging Cloud by his hair across the lab. You freeze.

Heart pounding, you hear Dom yell again. You hear the sound of a fist on flesh. A strangled screech. Zack screaming out for Cloud, powerless to do anything behind bars. Dom has Cloud. _Dom has Cloud._

You unglue your feet from the floor and sprint down the hall towards the lab as quietly as you can. You might have cut open and stitched together Cloud more times than you can count, but that doesn't mean you aren't going to try and stop another tragedy from happening to him. You feel fury rise in your chest. You might be a monster, but Dom is a devil. But just as quickly as the fury comes, it dies and is replaced by fear. You stop just short of the lab, your mind racing. Even once you get to them, what are _you_ going to do about it? Even though you're technically a higher rank than Dom, he only follows Hojo's orders. He won't listen to you. He might laugh in your face…or worse. Can you physically stop him? That's laughable.

But you can't do _nothing_. You should go get someone, get help…

_Barnes._

You hear Dom drag Cloud out of the lab towards the gym. Cautiously, you peer around the doorframe and see the end of Cloud's kicking feet disappear down the hallway. The lab is empty. On your desk sits your phone. Thank Gaia you'd left it down here.

You sneak to your desk, pick up your phone, and dial Barnes. The phone rings, rings, rings… _Come on, pick up, pick up!_

"W'd'you want…?" Barnes' voice is thick with sleep and irritation.

"Dom has Cloud." you whisper, not wanting to alert Dom to your presence. "He took him to the gym… I…I can't stop him."

The annoyance and fatigue vanishes from Barnes' voice. "On my way."

_Click.  
_

Dom's low voice carries to the lab. "Ready for our rematch?"

No response from Cloud.

"No, really." Dom says. "Try and hit me. I dare you."

Still no response from Cloud. You can picture him standing in the middle of the gym, eyeing Dom warily while calculating his odds of success. You imagine his resigned expression as he figures they aren't very good, but he'll put up a good fight anyways.

"Come on…" Dom cajoles him. "Make this fun for me. I'd like a good struggle before I fu- _!_ _Ahaha,_ _there_ it is!"

You hear Dom's laughter, a yelp from Cloud, a thud. You wince, cold sweat pouring from your skin. A grunt of pain from Dom tells you that Cloud must have landed a pretty good blow, but Cloud's hoarse scream says that Dom must have paid him back tenfold.

"You're fucking beautiful when you scream, you know that?" Dom taunts. Cloud screams again. "It's like music to my e- _agh!_ You _fucking_ bitch _._ You're a dirty little fighter, aren't you? Unlucky for you, I can fight back just as dirty."

Cloud shrieks.

Your hands creep to your ears, not wanting to hear any more. You pace back and forth in the lab's entryway holding your head between your hands, your heart pounding against your ribs. _Come on, Barnes, come on!_

Barnes arrives in record time, although it feels like he takes hours. He doesn't acknowledge you in any way, he just steps right past you towards the gym, an uncharacteristically intense expression on his normally indifferent face. You follow him, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You enter the gym, terrified of what you might see.

To your marginal relief, they're both still clothed, but your relief stops there. Dom is straddling Cloud, twisting one of his arms painfully behind his back. Cloud's other arm lays limply on the ground at a strange angle. It's dislocated. Cloud's face is covered in blood which gushes from his broken nose, payback from the one he gave Dom all those months ago. Tears stain Cloud's cheeks, but his teeth are bared in a defiant snarl. Even as you watch, Cloud struggles beneath Dom, determined to not give in. From Dom's torn shirt, busted lip, and scratched skin, you can tell Cloud hasn't made this easy for him.

Dom takes a fistful of Cloud's hair and wrenches Cloud's head back towards him.

"I've been waiting for this." Dom whispers against Cloud's ear. "You have _no idea_ how much I've wanted… Oh, for _fuck's sake._ "

Dom has caught sight of you and Barnes.

"The hell are you two doing here?" Dom lets Cloud's head drop back to the ground, but he doesn't release his grip on Cloud's arm. If anything, he twists it higher, causing Cloud to squirm beneath him as he tries to relieve some of the pressure on his shoulder. Much more, and he would have another dislocated arm. Dom glares up at you and Barnes.

"Can't a guy get some privacy? Listen, if you want a turn with him, you're going to have to wa-"

His words are drowned out by an earsplitting _bang._ Dom goes limp, a bright, red hole glistening between vacant eyes.

Dom's body falls on top of Cloud, who scrambles frantically to disentangle himself from Dom's corpse, struggling with his useless arm. Ears ringing from the gunshot, you turn to look, horrified, at Barnes who is still standing with his gun held aloft, his features contorted by raw hatred.

You're speechless.

Dom lies facedown, his hair dyed red around the bullet's exit hole. Cloud has pushed himself to the wall and is staring wide-eyed at Dom.

"…you killed him…" Cloud whispers.

Barnes finally lowers his gun and holsters it, although his expression is still that of pure rage. "Are you complaining?" Barnes spits. "Get up. Now."

Cloud climbs shakily to his feet and steps gingerly around Dom's body. It won't be long before it returns to the lifestream. Already, tendrils of green light are beginning to envelop his body. Soon, there will be nothing left of him except a small splatter of blood on the ground.

You watch, transfixed, until Barnes calls you back to the present.

"Can you patch him up?" Barnes asks, with a glance at Cloud.

You nod, mute.

"Then come on." Barnes motions to the door.

Zack can still be heard yelling for Cloud from his cell, his voice growing hoarse.

"I'll go tell him he can shut up now." Barnes says. "Be right back."

Cloud sits motionless on the operating table. An echo of pain in your jaw reminds you of the last time you treated Cloud without restraining him, but tonight you're both in such a dazed shock neither of you even think of trying anything. Cloud's gaze is unfocused, lingering somewhere in the middle distance, unresponsive to anything except for a hiss of pain when you reset his shoulder. You tend to his cuts and bandage up his nose. Although his next mako bath will likely make it look as though it was never broken, it'll a bit crooked until then.

When you and Barnes walk Cloud back to his cell, Zack stops pacing to throw himself at the bars when he sees Cloud, his expression is torn between relief at having Cloud back and horror at Cloud's appearance. You can tell Zack has a million questions he wants to ask, but is too afraid to. Zack rushes to Cloud's side the moment he reenters the cell, looking as though he wants to pull Cloud into his arms, but isn't sure if Cloud will accept his touch. Zack examines Cloud's bandaged nose, bruised skin, and bloodshot eyes. "Gods…"

"Dom's dead." Cloud says flatly.

"…did you…?"

"No."

"Did…did he…?

"No."

Zack pulls Cloud into his chest, wrapping his arms around him tightly. Cloud stiffens and looks as if he might pull back. But, after a moment, he softens against Zack. Then, he's sobbing. Zack murmurs softly to him, rubbing circles into his back. They slowly sink to the ground, Zack holding Cloud close against him, rocking him gently back and forth.

"C'mon…" Barnes mutters to you, starting down the hall.

You follow him. You don't need to see this.

You and Barnes check the gym to make sure Dom's body is gone. It is. Barnes wipes up the blood splatter, as well as the puddle of blood from Cloud's nose. Hojo will still know what happened from the security footage, but he'd still appreciate a clean space. Barnes throws the blood-stained rag away, looking grim.

"I'll email Hojo and let him know we need a replacement." he says.

"…what about you?" you ask. You're worried about what Hojo might do to Barnes.

"What about me?" Barnes snaps. "I was protecting the specimen. Dom was a fucking animal that needed to be put down. Hojo should be _thanking_ me."

"…alright."

It turns out that your concern for Barnes is unnecessary. Hojo shows no signs of caring what Dom did to Cloud or what Barnes did to Dom. Apparently, replacing hired muscle is easier than replacing a lab assistant. A surly man in his fifties takes Dom's place the following week. His name is Matson and he's a retired sniper from Shinra's army. He's quiet and sullen, but you trust him more than you ever did Dom within a week.

Spring finally arrives. Slushy, gray days give way to brilliant, blue skies and vast landscapes of flowers that color the mountainsides in radiant hues of pink, purple, blue, and yellow. You spend every moment you can outdoors, getting reacquainted with the trails that rested under several feet of snow throughout the winter. You marvel at the migrating birds, drinking in their song, and sit in the sunlight until your skin grows tender. You have months of darkness to make up for. Your houseplant perks up too and rewards you with a new leaf.

While you enjoy the resurgence of life that is spring, you can never forget that Cloud and Zack have no indication of the passing seasons. On a whim (or perhaps because you were halfway plastered), you bring them a fistful of flowers you snagged during your hike. Zack takes the blossoms between his hands like they're made of gold and buries his face into them. Weeks later, you notice that he's carefully stored the dried flowers under his bed. You occasionally catch him staring at them with an expression of pure longing that hurts to look at.

You're just over halfway through the S-cell treatments and Cloud's S-cell count is soaring, although you wouldn't know it by looking at him. Cloud looks…sick. His skin is dry and brittle, his hair listless, his eyes dull. He has frequent nosebleeds and seizures, especially after being pulled from the mako tank. Even though he and Zack are fed meals that _technically_ meet every nutritional requirement a person needs, Cloud is struggling to keep on weight. His ribs become more prominent with each passing day, his cheekbones too noticeable on his young face.

It's the early stages of mako poisoning.

Even Hojo recognizes that Cloud is at real risk for mako over-exposure and puts a pause on treatments. Yet, he isn't willing to let them sit and rest.

He throws them into the gym, intending for Cloud to work himself back into shape. The chance to do something other than sit in a cell or float in mako does both Cloud and Zack good. When it becomes clear that Hojo isn't offering any instructions other than "get in shape," Zack begins to mentor Cloud in swordsmanship. You watch Cloud and Zack momentarily drop their guards and pour themselves into sword training, forgetting where they are for a few glorious hours.

Zack is a great teacher and Cloud is a fast, determined student. Even though his unused muscles shake from exertion, Cloud never backs down from the challenges Zack throws at him. In fact, Cloud is often the one pushing Zack to go on longer than Zack is willing.

"One more round."

"Nah, let's take a break."

"I'm not tired."

Zack eyes Cloud skeptically. Cloud is drenched in sweat, breathing hard, and swaying on his feet. Zack doesn't contradict him, though.

"Well maybe _I_ am. C'mon. Let's take a break."

They pause until Cloud catches his breath. Then, they're back at it.

 _"Whoa_ , where did you learn how to do _that?"_

"What?"

"That parry. It looked just like…"

"…Zack?"

"…like something I haven't taught you yet." Zack finishes lamely. You can tell Cloud's not convinced that Zack said everything he wanted to, but before he has a chance to press, Zack says "One more time, let's go."

Later, once Cloud and Zack are back in their cells, Hojo replays the footage of Cloud next to a recording of Sephiroth. Cloud and Sephiroth's movements are identical. The exact same stance, the same fluid grace, the same intensity. Hojo doesn't say anything, but his lips are twisted into a smug, self-satisfied smile. Even with Cloud's brush with mako poisoning, the S-cell treatments are working. After two weeks, Hojo deems it safe to reintroduce Cloud to mako.

Summer passes quickly in the mountains and, before you know it, it's October again. A full year has passed since you moved to Nibelheim. A full year since Cloud and Zack have known freedom. It feels like an eternity.

The season is bone-dry. The mansion doesn't see rain for an entire month, the grass and shrubs around the building drying into brown husks. Dust follows you in after every hike. Matson, who has an extreme preference for order and cleanliness, sweeps the dust up after you, with heavy, passive-aggressive sighs.

The President is demanding a year-end report, and the end of the S-cell treatments concludes in a rush as Hojo scrambles to put it together. The two-week pause in treatment to avoid poisoning Cloud knocked Hojo off schedule. Still, he manages to wrap up phase one of Project S-II and record the data needed for his presentation to the President before the deadline.

Despite Hojo's best efforts, Zack still shows no signs of ever being introduced to S-cells. This irritates Hojo to no end. Cloud, however, shows promise. His body has accepted the S-cells completely and is now reproducing them on its own. He's started to put on muscle after his near-poisoning, and, when compared to last year's base data, he is stronger and faster than before. You're sure that Zack will be nothing more than a footnote in Hojo's report, while Hojo will dedicate the bulk of it to lifting Cloud up as proof of his success.

Hojo gives you a copy of his report to proofread. Your predictions were accurate.

You and Julia are selected to travel to Midgar with Hojo to assist with the presentation, while Barnes, Matson, and Clark stay behind.

"Bring back something nice for me?" Clark jokes, but you assure him you will. A little care package from civilization would probably do him good. In exchange, he promises to keep an eye on your plant while you're gone.

Four days before you're set to leave, you pick up your phone and call your family for the first time in months. You nearly hang up when you hear your mom's voice. It's almost too much. She's beside herself with excitement as she joins your father in the living room and calls your sister in from the field. You hear Evan babbling in the background. Soon, you're on speaker for all to hear. You really do want to hang up, there's too much between the last time you spoke and now to make things feel normal, but you force out, through hesitant, mumbled words, "Do you want to meet me in Midgar this week?"

A dark, guilt-ridden corner of your brain expects them to laugh at you and hang up. Why would they travel to Midgar to see someone who hasn't made any effort to speak to them since last year? But they accept immediately, overjoyed.

You know you don't deserve it, but you're happy too.

As you watch the Nibel Mountains disappear beneath you, you feel as though a weight is lifted off your chest. You won't have to come face-to-face with Zack's disappointed glare or Cloud's accusing eyes for an entire week. You won't have to wield a scalpel, smell blood, or stitch flesh back together. You won't have to spend your nights drinking alone in your room. Even though you'll be working this week, it'll be a vacation compared to life at the mansion.

Midgar's sights, sounds, smells, and sensations nearly knock you off your feet as you travel to your hotel (your old apartment long since rented out to another tenant). It's been a full year since you've seen other humans besides your colleagues, Zack, and Cloud. It's almost too much to be reminded that there is an entire civilization of people _not_ directly involved in human experimentation. You can't remember what it's like to live like that.

Anger unexpectedly flares inside you, burning red hot, when you enter the Shinra Building for the first time since last year. Its polished floors, gleaming lights, and lobby that smells of wealth, rather than blood, is so unlike the Shinra Mansion that you have trouble reconciling that they're owned by the same company. Your rage grows as you look at all of the employees around you wearing shining Shinra ID badges, high-end suits, and polished shoes. (You remember when you proudly wore your new, shiny shoes in this lobby, only to have them stained with blood within a week.) These people have the audacity to look happy working for Shinra. They have the audacity to believe that they are doing good at this company.

You want to drag each and every one of them by their perfectly-coiffed hair down to the basement of Shinra Mansion and press their faces against the glass of Cloud and Zack's tanks. You want to make them see a couple of teenagers who wear the Shinra logo as a tattoo, not a badge, just because they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You want to clench their hands around a scalpel and make them decide if their life is more valuable than the one they're cutting in to. You want to scream at these people that they're fools if they believe they're doing good. You need them to understand that they have just as much blood on their hands as you do, even if they don't know it.

The first day of meetings passes in a blur. You watch the clock so intently that it stops altogether, waiting for five o'clock when you'd finally be free to go see your family for the first time in over a year. It takes forever, but the clock finally does strike five and you launch yourself out of your seat to rush to the lobby where your family said they would wait for you. Except, halfway out of the conference room, you pause. You suddenly feel sick. You're not sure if you can face them. The last time they saw you, you hadn't experimented on humans before. What if they can tell? What if it's written all over your face?

But it's too late to bail now. You go to the lobby.

There they are.

Your small, hesitant smile suddenly grows into a wide, genuine one, and your awkward, shuffling walk speeds into a near run as you rush to meet them. Your parents look more lined and gray than you remember, your sister more tired, but they radiate warmth and joy that you soak in like a person dying of thirst. And then, there's Evan.

Without warning, your sister transfers him into your arms. You stand there stiffly, not sure what to do, staring at this tiny life that you've just been made responsible for not dropping. Evan stares up at you with Cloud-blue eyes, but they're untainted by fear, pain, and distrust. They're open, innocent, and loving. They say _I trust you._

It's too much for you to handle. Your heart that you've tried to hide behind cold iron all year swells with emotion and bursts free. You drop your head into Evan's tiny belly and weep. It takes everything in your power to not fall to your knees and breakdown entirely. Your family envelops you in their arms. Their love burns.

For living with cancer for nearly two years, your dad looks damn good. Maybe because it's the first time in a long time that you see something positive come from your Shinra salary, you feel another lightness come over you. Seeing your dad alive, happy, and so clearly in love (and loved by!) your mom, sister, and Evan, you're reminded that there is a purpose for tarnishing your soul. It's not enough to erase even a fraction of your guilt, but you're glad some good has come from your sins.

Since your dad visits Midgar every month for his cancer treatment, he's learned where all of the best restaurants are. He recommends an amazing restaurant just a few blocks away that serves Gongagan food.

You're halfway through the meal and feeling pretty proud that you don't feel the need to order alcohol when you remember that Zack is from Gongaga. The food turns to ash in your mouth. You end up ordering the strongest drink they offer.

The next few days of meetings pass like the first day. The President seems frustrated that Hojo doesn't have much more to show other than Cloud's elevated S-cell counts, marginal increase in speed and strength, and similarities to Sephiroth's fighting stance. Hojo masks his irritation well in front of the President, but whines about the President's short-sightedness, lack of vision, and general unintelligence behind his back. Hojo explains that Cloud is exactly where he should be at this stage. The S-cell treatments are mere preparation for the real work that lies ahead: J-cell treatments. You only halfway listen during the meetings, your attention on the clock, waiting for the moment when you can go be with your family again.

"…Sephiroth was a strong SOLDIER, but I think we agree that he was not the conduit with J-E-N-O-V-A we hoped for, Mr. President. If you consider the progress TS-3 has made…"

_Tick._

"…integration of S-cells was complete. Therefore, we can expect the same to happen with J-cells. Once we begin…"

_Tock._

"…repeat of past procedures. There is even indication that…"

 _Tick_.

"…a conduit with J-E-N-O-V-A, leading us to The Promised Land at last. It is beneficial that She is still being held in Nibelheim, as I believe that proximity…"

_Tock._

Five o'clock at last.

Evan really takes a shine to you, always reaching out his chubby arms and asking to be held when you're near. You oblige and revel in the feeling of being trusted. You walk the city streets with your family, enjoying parks, shops, and restaurants. You know that this excursion is costing your family a lot, especially your sister, who left the farm during harvest season. You offer to pay for as much as you can, but your family won't hear of it. Your father won't accept more help from you than you've already given.

You drink in this time, wanting it to last forever. You can't remember the last time you felt this light, this happy. You buy a few snacks for Clark, as well as a few bags of gourmet coffee to enjoy as a team. Your family buys tickets to LOVELESS for the following night. Your sister, a huge fan of the book, cannot wait. Your dad, who chronically falls asleep during movies, offers to stay at the hotel to watch Evan.

But on the day you're supposed to go see the play, Hojo receives a call just as he's about to enter the board room. He stops dead in his tracks, his body taut like a steel cable. His knuckles grow white around the phone. He spits a few tense words into the receiver, shoves his phone into his pocket, and spins on his heel to face you and Julia.

"We're leaving." he says tersely. "TS-2 and TS-3 escaped."

Your body still tingling from the hugs your family gave you goodbye, you watch Midgar disappear in a cloud of smog beneath you. Your eyes are raw and red from crying at the sudden departure. You thought you had two more days with your family at least.

There is plenty of time on the return trip to Nibelheim to review the security camera footage Matson sent to Hojo. You and Julia lean over Hojo's shoulder as the clip begins to play. The footage begins by displaying the exterior of the Shinra Mansion. There's initially nothing unusual about the video, everything is so still that it looks like a photo, until the trees jerk sideways as they're hit by an invisible force and the sky darkens to a near-black. Lightning forks through the sky. It's a massive storm.

Raindrops hammer against the security camera and distort the image, but not enough for you to miss lightning flash again, this time striking the brittle, brown shrub planted right by the mansion's front door. It bursts into flames. The fire quickly spreads to its neighbors, also made dry by the drought. The lights of the mansion flicker, then go black. A faint light appears moments later when the generator boots up. Barnes and Matson burst out of the front door, armed with extinguishers and heavy blankets. They try to smother the flames or at least prevent them from leaping onto the roof's cedar shingles. Although the rain is coming down in sheets, the drought has left everything as dry as matchsticks, and the fire burns brightly once ignited.

The image switches to an interior camera - the one facing Cloud and Zack's cell. You see the moment the lights flicker, then the screen goes black as the mansion loses power. When the auxiliary power kicks in and the camera turns back on, the cell door is stuck halfway open and sparking. Cloud and Zack are gone.

_You knew something wasn't right with that door!_

But now isn't the time to say "I told you so."

The screen flashes from camera to camera, following Cloud and Zack as they race to the lab. Sirens are wailing, lights are flashing, and delicate, medical machinery is ominously black. Cloud anxiously keeps watch as Zack wrestles with the locked filing cabinet that contains the keys to the cuffs around their ankles. _Why had you let them see where you keep the keys?!_ Zack finally pries it open with nothing but brute strength and sheer determination. The cuffs are off their ankles in seconds. Cloud and Zack tear out of the lab.

They sprint down the long hall towards the staircase to freedom faster than you've ever seen them move before. But just before they reach the atrium, an obstacle appears. It's Clark. He's coming down to check on the equipment after the power shortage, as protocol requires. He's entirely unprepared to come face-to-face with two escaped experiments.

Clark freezes.

Zack Fair does not.

He's on Clark in an instant, seizing Clark's head between his hands and tearing him off his feet. Clark's body convulses once, twice, three times as Zack slams his temple against the sharp edge of a concrete step.

Clark doesn't move after that.

You feel sick.

Zack and Cloud bound over Clark and claw their way up the stairs. They burst into the mansion's great room, pause to get their bearings, and then sprint towards the nearest exit: the front door. Zack throws open the door and they bolt through it, taking their first steps outdoors in a year.

But just as Clark wasn't expecting to encounter Cloud and Zack, Cloud and Zack aren't expecting to run into Barnes and Matson. Barnes and Matson aren't expecting them either, but, unlike Clark, they don't freeze. They turn their attention away from the smoldering fire and reach for the shock remotes on their belts. When they realize that the shock remotes are doing nothing, they don't hesitate. They reach for their guns.

Zack is almost on top of Matson when he fires. Matson, former sniper that he is, doesn't miss. Zack's knee bursts in an explosion of red. He goes down hard. Barnes fires at Cloud, but Cloud doges and the shot goes wide. Barnes takes aim again. It's difficult to hear above the wind and rain, but Zack is begging Cloud to run. Cloud launches himself at Barnes instead.

Cloud slams into Barnes a millisecond before Barnes fires. The bullet goes harmlessly into the grass rather than into Cloud's leg, like Barnes was aiming for. Cloud knocks Barnes off balance and pins him to the ground, trying to wrench the gun from his hands. Cloud might be faster than he was before, but he's still not strong enough to overpower Barnes. Barnes is also no pushover and has at least a hundred pounds on Cloud. They wrestle, rolling across the wet, dead grass while lightning flashes overhead.

Matson sprints over to Zack, who is trying to struggle to his feet. Matson kicks Zack in the ribs. You wince. You know Matson wears steel-toed boots. Zack falters, winded, but continues trying to get to his feet. He lunges at Matson. Matson kicks at him, but Zack anticipates this and grabs Matson's boot, pulling him to the ground. Matson kicks again, but Zack's grip is too strong for him to dislodge his foot from his grasp. Zack wrenches Matson's ankle sideways. Thunder masks Matson's howl of agony.

Cloud appears to finally gain the upper hand on Barnes. He's straddling Barnes with Barnes' gun arm pinned under his knee. Cloud's hands are wrapped around Barnes' throat. Barnes' free hand scrambles uselessly against Cloud's forearm. He's turning blue. Cloud reaches with one hand to seize the gun from Barnes' weakening grip…

With a Herculean demonstration of grit, Matson tugs his broken ankle out of the boot Zack's still holding in a death grip. He grabs a rock from the driveway and slams it against Zack's shattered knee. Zack instinctively jerks away with a hoarse scream. Matson reaches for his gun, takes aim at Cloud, and fires.

The shot only grazes Cloud's arm, as intended, but it's enough for him to release his grip on Barnes. Barnes coughs, trying to suck as much oxygen back into his lungs as he can. Cloud, realizing his mistake, goes to grab ahold of his throat again.

But it's too late.

Barnes catches Cloud across the jaw with the butt of his pistol. Cloud topples off him sideways, landing roughly on his injured arm. Barnes strikes Cloud's temple with his gun again, again, and again until Cloud goes limp. Barnes handcuffs Cloud and sprints to aid Matson.

Zack and Matson are locked in a fierce battle on the ground. Rather than risk letting Zack get ahold of his gun, Matson has thrown it across the grass. Neither one of them can rise to their feet, Zack's knee busted, Matson's ankle broken. Matson is putting up a good fight, but being thirty years older than Zack and not mako-enhanced, he's losing. Zack is reaching for Matson's skull, perhaps hoping to end his life with a sharp jerk of the neck. He doesn't see Barnes coming up behind him.

Barnes strikes him across the back of the head with his gun. Zack spasms, but doesn't go down. He rounds on Barnes, but in doing so, he opens himself up to another blow to the temple from Matson. Zack staggers. Barnes and Matson take turns raining blows onto Zack until Zack finally goes down and stays down. They cuff him.

Barnes offers Matson a hand, but Matson stubbornly refuses it. He trains his gun on Cloud's unconscious form and tells Barnes to drag Zack inside. Barnes does, then returns for Cloud.

You can't decide if it is a blessing or a tragedy that Cloud and Zack aren't conscious to catch one last glimpse of the sky before being sealed back underground.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! Welcome to the final chapter of Stitches. (There will be an epilogue, though.) This chapter is over 14,000 words long - roughly double the length of our usual chapters! This chapter is most closely linked to Losing Cohesion. It was really exciting for me to revisit something I wrote five years ago. Of course, as I reread it, I kept thinking of the many things I'd like to improve on. I think that I'd like to revamp Losing Cohesion at some point. I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> P.S. If you know of any good Hojo Lab fics, please send your recommendations to me! I am going to need something to read once we finish up this fic. :)

You pull up to the mansion exhausted from the journey, but Hojo orders you and Julia to follow him down into the lab. Nausea overwhelms you when you see the bloodstain from Clark's murder on the stairs. You step gingerly around it.

Unsure of how to stitch up Cloud's arm and wildly unqualified to address Zack's knee, Barnes put them in mako to start the healing process. Zack's knee will definitely need surgery, but the mako is a good start. They're both awake. You feel nothing when you look at Cloud, but anger rises like a tidal wave inside you when you lock eyes with Zack.

Clark didn't deserve that death.

Barnes is installing a new lock on Cloud and Zack's cell door. He won't look at you. You get the sense that he's waiting for you to yell at him for not trusting you when you told him that there was something wrong with the door. But the bloodstain from Clark's murder is still fresh in your mind, removing any need you have to feel vindicated. You would have rather been wrong. Besides, the rigidity in Barnes' shoulders tells you that he's already blaming himself for Clark's death. You don't need to add anything to his guilt.

Matson is sitting in the lab, icing his ankle.

"Patch me up, Doc?" he asks. He hides his pain well, but the tightness in his lips and voice tells you that he's hurting. You agree, but…

"I don't think we have any anesthesia." you tell him.

To Matson's credit, he doesn't flinch. "I know. That's why I asked you. You've got the gentlest hands here."

"That's not much of a compliment."

Matson smiles wryly. "No, it's not."

"I do have something that might help, though."

Matson smiles again, this time more broadly. "That's also why I asked you."

You run upstairs and grab him a bottle of vodka. He downs half of it in three swigs. While you're waiting for Matson to get blind drunk, you watch Hojo stand in front of the mako tanks with a sneer curdling his face. Zack and Cloud meet his gaze evenly. They're not sorry for what they did.

But you'd be willing to bet everything you have that Hojo will make them sorry.

When Matson finally slurs that he's drunk enough, you strap him down to the operating table and give him a strap of leather to bite into. It's bizarre to have someone besides Cloud or Zack beneath your scalpel; you had grown used to exclusively their skin under your hands.

While you work on Matson, Barnes and Julia haul Zack onto the other operating table. You're glad Hojo is going to be the one to operate on Zack. You don't want anything to do with him right now. Although the bullet-hole in Zack's knee already looks days-old due to mako and his accelerated healing, the wound still hasn't fully closed yet. It's being aggravated by fragments of free-floating bone.

Zack awakes to Hojo roughly shoving his finger against the bullet hole in his knee. Barnes goes to silence his screams, but Hojo shakes his head. "No need."

Hojo pokes and prods a bit more, not even pretending to examine the wound. He isn't even looking at it, his attention focused on Zack's face instead. He lingers in areas that elicit the loudest screams. You turn your attention back to Matson's ankle. He's doing a remarkable job of keeping quiet and still, although you hear his teeth digging into the leather despite the alcohol dulling his sense. Luckily it's a clean break and should heal nicely. You do your best to work as quickly and gently as possible.

Hojo finally withdraws his finger, slick with blood, from Zack's knee and wipes it across Zack's chest.

"Did you have fun while I was gone, TS-2?"

Zack, blinded by pain, doesn't answer. Hojo slams his fist onto Zack's knee. "I asked you a question."

It takes Zack a moment to regain the power of speech.

"Yeah, we were having a great time until you showed up." Zack pants. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you're kind of a buzzkill."

"No, a _'buzzkill'_ is cancelling a meeting with President Shinra because the test subjects he has invested a _great deal_ of money in have escaped. Do you know how embarrassing that is?"

"I guess I don't, no. I've never kept humans as test subjects be-"

Hojo speaks over him, scowling. "Not to mention, you incapacitated one of my employees. Sorting out the paperwork for workplace injuries is a nightmare."

"Hey, if he hadn't gotten in my wa-

Hojo interrupts. "What's more, your _'fun'_ cost me a lab assistant. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to replace those?"

"Again, I have no idea. I don't run a la-"

Hojo talks over him yet again. "It's very difficult, TS-2. So many fail the interview process, and even those who pass often have to be blackmailed into cooperation." You keep your head down and stay focused on Matson, but your cheeks burn.

"If you're having that much trouble, maybe it's you, not them. You ever think that you might be a terrible b- _AGH!"_

Hojo digs his fingers into Zack's knee, grinding Zack's broken bones together.

"You're going to pay dearly for everything you've cost me, TS-2." Hojo says, barely audible above Zack's screams. "You and TS-3."

Hojo is still taking his time with Zack when you finish putting a cast on Matson's leg. If he agrees to experimental mako treatments, he could be out of the cast in just a few weeks. Otherwise, he's in for a couple months of hobbling around on crutches.

You bet Hojo's going to push for the mako treatments.

That night, you unpack your suitcase and pull out the snacks you bought for Clark back in Midgar. You stare at them, your grip slowly tightening around their brightly colored wrappers. The sound of crinkling plastic fills the air like static. You can't get the footage of his death out of your mind. It plays over and over in a loop. Clark's look of shock when he sees Zack and Cloud flying towards him. Zack crossing the atrium in a single, predatory bound to seize Clark. Clark's body being dragged backwards. Zack slamming Clark's skull against the unyielding concrete. The sickening _crack_ of Clark's head splitting open like an egg. His body still in its death throes while Zack and Cloud claw their way over it… With a snarl, you throw the snacks across the room. They hit the wall with an unsatisfying _thwack._ Enraged, you stomp over to them and trample them, bringing your feet down on them over and over until they're an unrecognizable heap of plastic and crumbs all over your floor.

You hate Zack for murdering Clark, you hate that it could have just as easily been you, you hate Clark for not at least trying to run, and…

…and you hate that, deep down, you can't bring yourself to blame Zack for what he did.

You try several times to write Clark's family. You heard that they were told he was killed in an unfortunate lab accident. Technically true. You're not sure what to say. _My deepest sympathies_ feels hollow, and it's not like you knew Clark well enough to write anything deeper than that.

That night, you wake up with every creak and groan of the mansion thinking it's Zack coming to kill you in your sleep.

But Zack is still in his mako tank the following morning, his black-and-blue knee swelling against its messy stitches. He looks exhausted. You imagine he couldn't sleep through the pain. The wound on Cloud's arm where Matson clipped him has healed up nicely on its own, though. Everything on Cloud has been healing nicely lately. All incisions, even the Y-shaped one that marked the start of his life as Hojo's specimen, have healed completely, leaving nothing but smooth skin behind. If only mako wasn't so volatile, it would make a great medicine.

Matson does end up opting for the experimental mako treatments. Whether that was by his own choice or through pressure from Hojo, you can't tell. He's violently ill for three weeks, his heart even momentarily stopping during one injection, but he's up and walking by week four, albeit with a limp. He briefly develops a faint glow in his eyes, but it dissipates after his last treatment. He doesn't comment on whether or not the sickness was worth shaving a few months off of his recovery time, but, if it had been you, you would've stuck with the cast.

Meanwhile, Hojo drafts a plan that would function as valuable data collection and Zack and Cloud's punishment: testing their healing rates.

You manage to drink so much during that time that you are able to almost entirely forget the sound of snapping bones, tearing skin, and the thud of steel on skulls. The smell of burning flesh lingers on your clothes, though, and you find a full fingernail, still bloody at its base, clinging to your pants one night.

Yet, even though you're disgusted by what Hojo puts them through, the part of you that seeks retribution for Clark's death, finds grim satisfaction in their pain.

"Clark didn't deserve that." you finally blurt while recording how much Cloud and Zack's wounds have healed three days after initial injury.

Zack's face hardens. He doesn't respond.

"He…" you start, not knowing where you are going, but unable to keep things bottled up any longer. "He wasn't…he wasn't a bad person."

You immediately regret your choice of words when Zack's eyebrows raise incredulously. "Not a bad person, huh?" he says flatly. His speech is a little messed up, no doubt from the nickel-sized hole you'd punched into his tongue yesterday. The hole had already closed, but you'd wager his tongue is still tender. "My bad for not realizing that while he was helping cut us apart."

You flush. "You think he _wanted_ to do that? You think he _wanted_ to be here? Do you think any of us do?!"

"I think you're taking the easy way out."

"The easy way out? There's nothing easy about working for Hojo. You either follow orders or you die."

"Better to die with honor than to live without it."

You laugh sardonically. " _Honor?_ What fantasy are you living in where that still exists? And even if honor meant more to me than my life, Hojo's made it very clear that my family will be his next test subjects if I step out of line."

"…so you understand."

"Understand what?"

Zack's eyes bore into yours, and for the first time, you see a flash of regret for what he did to Clark. "You understand what it's like to do terrible things to protect the ones you love."

When Cloud and Zack are nearing the end of their recovery, Hojo prepares to transition to the second phase of Project S-II: J-cell treatments. To begin, you'll need cells from the source Herself. A trip to the Nibelheim Reactor is in order.

The reactor looms cold and gray against a barren sky. The stillness of the mountain-top is undercut by the low thrumming of the reactor's pumps pulling up mako from beneath the Planet's surface. The ground vibrates beneath your feet.

Hojo is already well ahead of you and Julia, walking briskly up the stairs. The last time you saw the reactor, it still bore the scars of Sephiroth's sword. Now, much like the newly rebuilt Nibelheim, the reactor looks as though it never knew Sephiroth. You, however, remember. You think that revisiting the site of a catastrophe to find everything as it was before is more unnerving than finding ruins.

The stench of mako hits your nose when you enter the reactor, but you're now so accustomed to it that it draws no reaction from you. You follow Hojo past rows and rows of stasis pods. You don't look inside; there's no need. You can guess what they contain.

A metal archway engraved with the text " _J-E-N-O-V-A"_ across it greets you at the top of the stairs. A thrill goes up your spine. You're really about to see Her. While you're curious to finally see Hojo's most prized possession and Shinra's tenuous link to The Promised Land, your intrigue is riddled with apprehension. It might just be your nerves, but it feels as though the air is growing heavier with every step you take towards the archway. You rub your sweaty palms on your lab coat.

Julia uncharacteristically also shows some anxiety. She hesitates under the archway and catches your eye. A flicker of uncertainty crosses her face like a shadow. You've never known her to show any doubt. Dread pours over you. The dark, oppressive force pressing down on you isn't just in your head. Julia can sense it too.

Wordlessly, you break eye contact and follow Hojo into the chamber.

J-E-N-O-V-A is…an angel?

No, on second glance you can see it's an effigy made of metal and wires. You suppose it's meant to be beautiful, but you find its smooth, expressionless face and hollow eyes sinister. It towers over the walkway, looking down on you, Julia, and Hojo as if you are insects to be crushed. You glance at your colleagues to see if they're uneasy about the effigy's threatening posture. Julia looks to be shrinking in on herself. Hojo looks as though he's being pulled in like a magnet.

Hojo flips a switch. The chamber is filled with the mechanical whirs of pulleys, chains, and cogs. With the screech of metal on metal, the effigy slowly rises. The base of a tank comes into view. The effigy rises higher, higher. Something resembling a massive, grotesque heart is revealed, followed by a sickly, warped pair of gray legs. Any lingering shreds of curiosity you had to see J-E-N-O-V-A die shortly after. It's obvious why J-E-N-O-V-A's true form was masked behind a smooth-faced facade.

J-E-N-O-V-A is a monster.

It could be argued that She resembles a human woman, but no one could ever mistake Her for a person. Her face is surprisingly smooth and affixed with a benign smile, but any beauty that one might find in Her features is overshadowed by an unnerving, glowing red eye. Twisted, gnarled masses protrude like wings from Her back, which is covered by mottled, gray skin. Although you know She is lifeless, you're certain Her eye follows you around the room. The oppressive aura is overpowering. The air is too thick to breathe.

"Isn't She magnificent?" Hojo asks in a hushed, awestruck tone. Rather than shrinking under the weight of J-E-N-O-V-A's presence, he seems invigorated by it. He gently caresses his hand against the glass. "A memory from the past. Our link to the Promised Land…"

"I didn't realize Cetra looked like this." Julia comments uneasily. "The legends I heard as a kid made them sound…normal."

She's right. You've always heard the Cetra described as looking like humans, if not more elegant and graceful. Not once have you heard them described as having external organs, red eyes, or extra, fungus-like appendages.

Hojo drains the mako from J-E-N-O-V-A's tank and, with reverence, opens it. He runs his fingers over Her limp, white hair and rests his palm on Her cheek. You feel as though you're intruding on something profoundly intimate. Uncomfortable, you look away until Hojo asks you to hand him the vials you brought for cell collection.

He gently collects Her cells muttering softly to Her the entire time. You're surprised to see that J-E-N-O-V-A still has blood to give, if the black-purple, effervescent substance leaking from her could be called blood. A drop falls to the bottom of the tank. As you watch, it hisses, bubbles, and grows in size, spreading across the floor like bacteria colonizing a glass slide.

Hojo finally withdraws from the tank and reseals it. You and Julia pack up most of the samples, but he keeps one, holding it as if it were made of gold. He rubs his thumb over the vial with such an expression of passion that, again, you feel as though you're intruding on something private.

The oppressive aura diminishes when you leave the reactor, but _something_ gnaws at your brain during the trip back to the lab. It's not until you leave Her cell samples in the lab and go upstairs for bed that the unexplainable anxiety that followed you home lifts. It returns the next morning when you descend into the lab.

Whatever J-E-N-O-V-A is, you're not convinced she's a Cetra.

You, Julia, and Hojo spend the day propagating J-cells for the experiments that lay ahead. Her cells are easier to work with than Sephiroth's. It's as if they _want_ to grow and spread. Hojo even issues a warning to be more cautious than usual about keeping Her cells away from other samples. J-cells are especially prone to contaminating and conquering others. You're not sure if this also applies to your own body's cells, but you are nevertheless more careful than usual to not get any of Her genetic material on you.

Within just a day, you have enough cells to begin Phase-II. It's a repeat of Phase I, with J- instead of S-Cells, so you start where it all began a year ago: IV drips.

Unlike last year, when Hojo left after ensuring that the drips were running smoothly, Hojo stays and fusses over every detail. While the low-level toxin damages Cloud and Zack's veins, Hojo prepares drip bags of J-cells that will follow.

"He should've just given us the day off if he was going to do everything himself." you grumble quietly to Barnes.

He snorts and nods in agreement.

The drip bags of toxin empty. It's time to replace them with J-cells. Cloud and Zack shift uneasily as Hojo brings J-E-N-O-V-A's cells closer to them. They undoubtedly feel the unnerving presence radiating from Her cells, same as you. Your skin crawls at the thought of having those injected into your bloodstream.

"You two have no idea how lucky you are." Hojo tells Cloud and Zack while holding the drip bag up to the light to admire it.

"You're right, we don't." Zack hisses as another drop of poison enters his system.

Hojo smiles down at him patronizingly. "I wouldn't expect you to understand. But you should know that you're about to experience the highest honor I can offer."

"Want to trade places? Sounds like you want this more than we do."

Hojo caresses the bag of cells looking deep in thought. "Maybe one day…" he says so quietly that you almost don't hear him.

Hojo carefully removes the drip bag of toxin and replaces it with the J-cells. Slowly, ceremoniously, he places his hand on the dial that will open the valve and leak the first drops of J-E-N-O-V-A cells into Cloud and Zack's veins. He turns the dial. Black-purple liquid slides like oil down the tube. It moves into the needle and disappears beneath Cloud and Zack's skin. Their veins near the injection site darken. They jerk suddenly as if stung, instinctively flexing their arms to tug them away from the awful, dread-inducing, vile substance entering their bodies. Zack and Cloud hiss and writhe and tense and shake and… Cloud goes still.

But he's not unconscious. A blank expression is spreading over his face, his body going limp as though under anesthesia. His eyes grow hazy, unfocused. Hojo watches intently. Conversely, Zack remains tense, braced against the steady stream of foreign cells invading his system.

Hours later, the drip bags empty at last. Cloud takes a shuddering breath as if waking from a deep sleep. Hojo removes the IV and asks you and Julia to record their vitals. You check Cloud. He still looks dazed, but everything you measure checks out as normal. Barnes and Matson double check the integrity of Cloud and Zack's electric cuffs and let them off the table. Zack moves stiffly, as if his joints are full of fluid. Cloud moves as if sleepwalking.

Just when they're nearly out of the lab, Cloud whirls around, eyes wide, as if searching for someone.

"Cloud?" Zack asks.

"…did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Cloud frowns. "I thought I heard… Never mind. I'm just tired."

Zack lets it go, but Hojo watches their retreating forms with unadulterated glee.

And so the procedures begin again. Limb by limb, bone by bone, organ by organ, Zack and Cloud are torn apart and put back together, this time with J-cells rather than S-cells. You're not sure if Cloud and Zack realize that each procedure is a repeat of everything they endured last year, or if it all blends together into one, indistinguishable blur of agony.

Like the S-Cells, Zack's body rejects the J-cells completely which makes Hojo seethe. Cloud, however, rapidly becomes Hojo's favorite. Although his body was slow to build up S-cells, his J-cell count skyrockets in just weeks.

"Keep this up and I'll give you your official number." Hojo cheerfully tells Cloud while injecting J-cells into his spinal column one day.

To fuel this explosion of growth, Cloud's body begins to eagerly suck in impossible amounts of mako. The J-cells are ravenous for it. Cloud's eyes had already taken on a glow due to the last year of exposure, but mako now starts to bleed out of his irises and into the sclera. One night, after switching off the lights for bed, you realize that the flecks of Cloud's blood on your shoe are glowing in the dark. The amount of mako in his body could power the entire mansion. The amount of mako in his body should kill him.

But Cloud shows no signs of mako poisoning. Far from it.

"Agh!"

_Thud._

"Zack! Are you okay?"

Cloud drops his training sword and rushes to Zack who's crumpled in a heap against the wall…that is twenty feet behind where he was originally standing.

Zack waves Cloud off, but coughs when he tries to speak. He's had the wind knocked out of him.

"Zack?"

Zack coughs again and pulls himself into a seated position, taking a deep breath as he rubs his chest. "I'm good, I'm good. You caught me off guard. Since when can you hit like that?"

"I…I don't know. Since now, I guess. I'm sorry."

Zack laughs. "No! Don't be. That was awesome. Let's try that again. Don't hold back."

Cloud retrieves his sword and resumes a fighting stance against Zack. Within seconds, Cloud's the one on the ground.

Zack flashes him a good-natured smile as he offers Cloud his hand to pull him to his feet. "Oh yeah, I'm not holding back anymore either."

Now that Cloud heals as quickly as Zack, the amount of time they need to spend in recovery is diminished. Hojo uses the extra time to send them to the gym to continue gathering combat data. It's incredible to watch them trade blows back and forth. Zack still has more experience and skill, but Cloud can now match his strength and speed, which makes for a thrilling spectacle. Cloud isn't able to knock Zack off his feet again, but he does land a few blows that would be devastating in a real fight. Zack becomes the most animated and carefree you've seen him since waking up in Hojo's possession. Losing himself in training, he looks and sounds like the Zack you used to know wandering the halls of the Shinra Building.

"Yeah, that's it!" he shouts enthusiastically after Cloud counters a particularly fast blow. "Now dodge, feint left, strike right! Yeah! You got it!"

"Hmph, that was close! You've gotten _fast!"_

"Nice one! I'm definitely going to be feeling that tomorrow!"

Cloud goes a little pink with all of the praise, but you can tell he's enjoying himself too. From the observation deck, Hojo is tracking the entire session for later analysis. You don't need to study the footage, though, to see how far Cloud has come. He holds the training sword like it weighs nothing and barely breaks a sweat. If anything, Zack seems more fatigued than Cloud at the end of each session.

Cloud darts towards Zack, swinging hard. Zack blocks the strike, but the force of the blow forces him back a few steps.

"Damn, Spiky, you've got a good arm on you! I bet you could wield the Buster Sword now, no problem."

Cloud's eyebrows knit together as he steps back, lowering his training sword. "The what?"

Zack laughs, also lowering his sword. "Ahah, very funny. I know I never shut up about it."

"…about the sword?"

Zack rolls his eyes. "C'mon, I know you're probably sick of hearing about it, but take the compliment."

"Sick of hearing about it? You've never told me anything about this sword."

Zack looks uneasy. "Are you kidding?"

"Why would I be? I just want to know what sword you're talking about."

"The _Buster_ Sword."

Now Cloud looks a little irritated. "Yeah, I know. What sword is that?"

"It was Angeal's, then he gave it to me. …you don't remember that?"

Cloud starts to look uncomfortable. "I didn't pay much attention to your gear, I guess."

"You used to help me sharpen and polish it."

Now Cloud looks really uncomfortable. "I don't remember that. But I guess we've been here so long I'm starting to forget things from before."

"I talk about it at least once a day."

Cloud frowns. "No, you don't."

"Fine, maybe every other day. Point is, we've talked about it. You know what the Buster Sword is."

"I don't, Zack. Why are you looking at me like that?" Cloud grows defensive as Zack looks at him in disbelief. "You know, you could be forgetting things too."

But you know Cloud is wrong. You overheard Zack talking about the Buster Sword just yesterday.

But, aside from that one minor lapse in memory, Cloud seems fine. The next month passes without any unusual incidents. Hojo has moved from organs, to bones, to ligaments and tendons. Today you're fortifying the joints in their arms.

You're finishing stitching up the small incision in the crook of Cloud's arm when it occurs to you that Cloud has become unusually still. Although both Cloud and Zack disassociate more often than not during procedures now, they still writhe and twitch under your hands.

You glance at Cloud's face. It's completely relaxed. His eyes, which are now entirely full of glowing mako, stare hazily at the ceiling. But he's breathing normally, and his heart rate is fine, so, even though a pang of worry tugs at you, you don't think to comment on it.

Barnes undoes Zack's restraints while Matson sees to Cloud. Because Cloud and Zack's arms are useless from the operation, Matson and Barnes have to push them to a seated position. Cloud's head lolls backwards before rolling limply forwards as Matson shoves him up. Cloud lazily slides off the table, stumbling as his feet hit the ground.

"Get a move on." Matson mutters gruffly, waiting for Cloud to shuffle ahead of him. "Come on, get."

Cloud doesn't move. He's completely still, expression vacant, head tilted as though listening to something only he can hear.

Matson snaps his fingers in front of Cloud's face. "Wake up, kid. I don't have all day."

Cloud doesn't respond. His lips move, whispering an answer to a question unheard by anyone else in the room. His voice is quiet, nearly silent, but the fragments of words you do pick up don't make sense to you. They're not like anything you've ever heard before. With his eyes completely saturated with mako, he looks otherworldly, ghost-like. He slowly nods, as if agreeing to something. There's something alien in this small movement, as if he's learning how to use his body for the first time. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle.

Matson moves to shock Cloud into submission, but Hojo holds his hand up to stop him. He's watching Cloud with intense curiosity.

Cloud's gaze drifts over the room, unfocused until it lands on the vials containing excess J-cells. His face tightens, almost imperceptibly. He takes a step towards the vials.

"Cloud?"

Zack's voice breaks the trance.

Cloud stumbles mid-step, his vague, detached expression tethering itself to reality once more. He presses his fingers against his temple and shakes his head, as though clearing water from his ears. Confusion clouds his features.

"What …where…?"

He scans the room, confusion becoming overtaken by fear as he takes in his surroundings. Although it's practically the only view he has known for a year and a half, he looks as if he's seeing it for the first time. Despite the glow of mako obscuring his pupils, you can tell his eyes are darting frantically over the mako tanks, hulking lab tech, operating lights, and shelves upon shelves of vials.

"Zack, where…?" He staggers back, only to run into the operating table. He whirls around, seeing the remnants of blood on steel, the pile of surgical instruments that were carelessly discarded on a tray. He recoils, nearly colliding with Matson who steps out of the way at the last second.

He looks down at his arms, riddled with cuts and stitches. He runs his stiff, trembling fingers over the incisions as if to confirm they're real and part of his body. His chest begins to heave with panic. Eyes wide, he searches the room once more. "Zack?!"

His eyes land on Hojo instead. Cloud freezes.

In the span of seconds, you watch a carousel of emotions flash across his face. A flicker of realization replaces blank confusion before turning into full-blown remembrance. Devastation follows soon after.

"Are you feeling alright, TS-3?" Hojo asks.

"'m fine." Cloud mumbles, having learned long ago to not ignore a direct question from Hojo. His body caves in on itself, trying to become as small as possible. You recognize it as a familiar posture he adopts around Hojo. He must remember where he is now.

"Excellent. So then you wouldn't mind explaining to me what just happened?"

"I…I blacked out, I think."

"Who did you hear?"

"I didn't hear anyone."

"Then who were you talking to?"

"Zack. I got…confused."

"Before then."

"I wasn't talking."

Hojo frowns, dissatisfied with Cloud's answer. "Take TS-2 back to the cell. TS-3 stays here. We're going to have a nice, little chat."

Their chat is anything but nice.

When fingernail pliers, red-hot iron, and razors can't get Cloud to admit who he was talking to, or even that he heard anything unusual at all, Barnes pries Cloud's jaw open so Hojo can shove a hallucinogen down his throat in hopes that it will trigger a similar reaction.

It doesn't. Instead, you're forced to listen to Cloud scream in terror at a horror only he can see.

Under the guise of going to check on Zack, you leave the lab to get away from Cloud's gut-wrenching cries. You can still hear him, but at least it's quieter by the cell. You stop across from Zack, let your back hit the wall, and slide to the floor.

Zack's standing ramrod straight by the bars, jaw and fists clenched, staring in the direction of the lab where Cloud is being tortured just out of sight. He's long since stopped yelling for Cloud when they're separated, knowing that he'll only get him and Cloud electrocuted if he's too loud. That doesn't mean he won't wait by the bars for Cloud to be brought back to him, though.

"What is Hojo doing to him?" Zack asks without looking at you.

"You don't want to know." you mutter, bringing your knees up so you can rest your elbows on them and press your palms against your eyes.

"Yeah. I do."

"No, you don't."

"Yeah." Something in Zack's tone makes you look up at him. He's finally looking at you, his eyes burning with a rage that's had over a year to smolder. "I do. I want to know so I can pay him back when I get out of here."

Although Zack breaking free doesn't bode well for you, you'd love to see Hojo getting what he deserves, even if your guts are ripped out moments after his are. So you tell him.

Zack's fury radiates off him in waves.

"The effects of the hallucinogen should wear off in the next half an hour." you add dully, as if that's not too long of a time to listen to someone beg for their life against an imagined threat.

Zack scowls. The lines in his face have grown deep. He looks tired.

"What's the point of all this? What is Hojo doing to us?"

"…"

"What, can't tell me?"

"…"

"…fine. But at least tell me this. Is Cloud going to be okay?"

"I don't think any of us are going to be okay."

Zack frowns. "Stop it. You know what I mean. Cloud isn't really…all there anymore. He doesn't remember things. He hears voices that aren't there. And just now, he looked like he didn't know where he was. What's happening to him?"

You can only shake your head. "I wish I knew."

As the months pass, Hojo becomes desperate for Cloud to sustain a connection with J-E-N-O-V-A. Not only is communicating with J-E-N-O-V-A Hojo's greatest obsession, but President Shinra is also expecting results by the end of the year.

Hojo doubles, triples, quadruples the concentration of J-cells he gives Cloud and Zack. Yet, he can't force communication with J-E-N-O-V-A. Cloud does enter light trances a few times more, but they're impossible to predict, easily broken by noise, and Cloud never remembers them. Hojo begins to experiment with various drugs, hoping something will make Cloud more susceptible to J-E-N-O-V-A's whispers.

Even though Cloud has yet to be the link to J-E-N-O-V-A Hojo needs him to be, you're impressed with Cloud's progress. Cloud is now as strong and fast as any SOLDIER with accelerated healing, sensitive ears, and night vision to match. When comparing Cloud's base data to now, it's like he isn't even the same person. Analysis of his sparring sessions with Zack shows that his fighting style is a unique blend of Zack's and Sephiroth's. Sephiroth's fighting style especially shines through when Cloud is caught off guard, lending Cloud experience where Cloud has none.

While Sephiroth's cells might have given Cloud muscle memory of combat, J-E-N-O-V-A's cells are what put real weight into his blows. Zack no longer holds anything back, giving it his all each time he and Cloud cross blades. You're grateful for the high-speed cameras that record them because they often move too fast for your eye to process. Their sessions occasionally grow so intense that Hojo has to shut them down with a few, well-timed zaps from the electric cuffs before they can tear the gym apart.

But Hojo isn't worried about a few holes in the wall. He's drunk on Cloud's progress…so much so that he turns a blind eye to anything that suggests Cloud might not be the success Hojo needs him to be.

"Step aside!" Hojo grabs Julia's arm and pulls her away from Cloud. The syringe she'd just pushed into the crook of Cloud's elbow leaves his skin at an awkward angle. Drops of blood and J-cells hit the table. Cloud is having a seizure.

Again.

"How many times do I have to show you how to give injections correctly?" Hojo hisses.

"I did everything just as you showed me." Julia replies icily, discarding the syringe.

" _Clearly_ you didn't, or this wouldn't be happening." Hojo snarls, gesturing to Cloud. Cloud jerks spasmodically against his restraints and his eyes roll to the back of his head. Red stains his clenched teeth. He must have bitten through his tongue.

You won't say it out loud, but Hojo is wrong. Hojo might pretend otherwise, but Cloud's seizures have become more frequent and severe, although they remain as unpredictable as Cloud's seances with J-E-N-O-V-A. There's no way this seizure was Julia's doing, but Hojo would rather put the blame on someone else than his precious specimen.

Cloud eventually quiets and Hojo takes over the procedure while Julia nurses her wounded pride.

"How are you feeling?" you hear Zack ask Cloud from your desk once they've been returned to their cells.

"Like shit." Cloud mutters.

"Can't say I blame you."

A pause.

"Why don't you get seizures?"

"Not sure."

"I'm pathetic."

"Don't say that." Zack says forcefully. "Don't you ever say that. You've survived more than anyone else I know."

"Nothing more than you have. …and you're dealing with it better than I am."

"Don't forget, I've had longer to adapt to mako enhancements."

"But did you ever have seizures? Black out?"

"…"

"That's what I thought." Cloud mutters glumly.

Another pause.

"You can't be so hard on yourself." Zack says softly. "You've gotta give yourself more credit."

Cloud scoffs, but doesn't reply.

"…you know what Angeal used to tell me?"

You, personally, do. You've heard Zack talk about Angeal and his lessons at least every other day for the past year and a half. You've heard so much about the man that you feel like you knew him personally. You wait for Cloud to mumble Angeal's quote verbatim to appease Zack.

But he doesn't.

"…who?"

You can _feel_ Zack's brow furrow from down the hall. "Umm, Angeal?"

"Yeah. Who's that?" Cloud asks blankly.

"My mentor? He gave me the Bu-… he gave me my sword and taught me everything I know. You know, _that_ Angeal."

"…oh." Cloud finally replies, but you can hear in his tone that he still has no idea who Zack's talking about.

You can tell Zack must hear that too, because he asks, "You really don't know who Angeal is…?"

"I guess the name sounds kind of familiar." Cloud admits. "You've told me about him before, right?"

Only just about every day. But Zack is too tactful to say so. He's learned to not press Cloud when Cloud has forgotten something.

"…yeah. A couple times. Anyways…"

That's another thing Hojo won't admit. Cloud's mind is failing him.

The following week, you catch a snippet of conversation where Cloud tells Zack that he's never heard of Aerith. But that's not as upsetting as when Cloud's misplaced memories of the Nibelheim Incident and the fate of his mother come rushing back after he's temporarily forgotten them. By then, Cloud's realized that his mind is collapsing, and there's nothing he can do about it.

You see it too. Increasingly, there's an emptiness behind his eyes. He's slow to respond to orders or any outside stimuli at all. There are more instances when he doesn't remember where he is.

But Hojo turns a blind eye.

Because it's nearly been a year since the J-cell treatments began, and Project S-II is nearing its completion. With the deadline for President Shinra's report looming, Hojo can't afford to admit he might have a broken specimen. And, physically, Cloud isn't broken. He's still strong, fast, and resilient, but Hojo knows the President expects more than just another exceptional SOLDIER. He needs a reliable conduit for J-E-N-O-V-A.

Hojo starts pulling all nighters to develop a method to force Cloud to hold a stable connection with J-E-N-O-V-A. He grows more irritated and erratic than usual, and you do your best to keep out of his way. Using the lessons learned from the various drugs he has forced on Cloud, Hojo is convinced he can manufacture a hallucinogen that's specially designed to break Cloud's mind while rendering him open to outside influences. He keeps the details to himself, but you gather that a flood of J-cells and a near-lethal dose of concentrated mako are also involved.

When he exits his office with a triumphant smile plastered over his greasy face, you know he feels that he's succeeded.

So certain that his plan will work, he invites the President himself to come witness the birth of Shinra's new link to J-E-N-O-V-A. The President declines, but sends a small team of scientists from Scarlet's Weapons Development Department in Midgar to observe. If all goes according to plan, Scarlet may have new weapons to develop for the journey to The Promised Land.

All is calm that morning. You stumble downstairs, still somewhat buzzed from last night's binge, and run into the Midgar scientists in the kitchen. They all look like they barely slept. The Shinra Mansion can be difficult to adapt to.

You offer them coffee, but they decline after seeing the tap run with murky water when you turn it on. You shrug and pour yourself a huge cup. More for you.

Barnes sidles up next to you to pour his own mug. "Can you believe these guys?" he whispers. "I've never seen such a group of stuck-up little pricks."

You snicker into your coffee. "Wanna place bets on who pees their pants when we show them the catacombs?"

"Only if you don't tell anyone I might lock them in there afterwards."

The Midgar scientists _are_ pretty jumpy when they descend into the laboratory, although you don't feel bad for them, especially after one points to some dusty, out-dated tech and sniggers to his colleague. You bet if they had to personally haul heavy machinery up and down the stairs they wouldn't be so quick to replace equipment that still works.

Barnes and Matson splay Cloud and Zack out on the operating tables. Barnes casts silence as soon as they're secure, no doubt to prevent Zack from snarling obscenities at the visitors once the effects of the sedative wear off. If the visitors are uncomfortable with human experimentation, they don't show it. Then again, if they're from Scarlet's department, they probably have their own fair share of blood on their hands. You've heard that Scarlet likes to test her weapons on live humans.

It's bizarre to have outsiders in the lab. You've grown so used to your small, nuclear unit that the extra bodies make the lab feel overpacked, even if there's only three of them. Cloud and Zack cast them curious, suspicious glances.

As usual, Hojo jumps straight into things without introductions. He quickly reviews the procedural packet and assigns everyone a role. While he will be carrying out the procedure itself, he expects everything to be meticulously documented for future analysis. Even though you find the Midgar scientists snobby, you're glad to have the extra hands. Taking notes, making recordings, capturing photos, and collecting cell samples would have been too much for you and Julia to handle alone.

Hojo doesn't bother to ask if anyone has any questions and tosses his copy of the procedural packet on the table. He has no need of it. He knows exactly what to do. Cloud, whom Hojo expects the most out of, goes first.

Hojo wheels a tray of instruments over to Cloud. The squeal of the tray's small tires rolling closer is a familiar cue for Cloud to expect pain. You watch his skin pale as shivers erupt over his body. His eyes squeeze shut and his hands ball into fists.

Hojo selects a razor from the tray and removes a small patch of hair from Cloud's scalp. He meticulously clears the skin of loose hairs and uses a marker to mark the center of the shaved area. He pulls out a scalpel. Gently placing his free hand on Cloud's brow to steady Cloud's tremors, Hojo carves a cross over the center mark. Blood oozes from the incision. Hojo wipes it away carelessly with gauze and pulls away the flaps of skin and tissue to expose the white bone of Cloud's skull underneath.

Cloud's ragged breathing fills the air.

Hojo pulls out a drill.

The whine of the metal boring into bone drowns out all other sound.

Cloud can't scream because Barnes won't let him, but the terror and agony on his face speak loud enough. To have an excuse to look away, you search the faces of the Midgar scientists for any signs of shock. There is none, confirming your suspicions that they've used humans in their experiments too.

The scent of burnt flesh and bone fill the air. Hojo sets down the drill and wipes away the blood once more. You catch a glimpse of Cloud's brain glistening wetly under bone before blood wells up again, obscuring your view. Cloud is trembling violently, tears running down his face. His mouth gapes open and shut with wordless howls, his hands clenching and unclenching desperately, his eyes filled with blind horror.

Hojo lightly plucks a syringe of mako from the tray and inserts the needle through the hole in Cloud's skull. He delicately depresses the syringe, injecting a steady stream of mako directly into Cloud's brain. Cloud's eyes bulge in their sockets as he spasms. Blood drips from his nose. His jaw works furiously to spit out silent sobs and body thrashes uncontrollably, twisting as far as his restraints allow. Hojo withdraws the needle. Mako drips from the hole.

Hojo sets the empty syringe down and picks up a syringe of J-cells. Hojo deftly navigates it through the opening and into Cloud's brain. His thumb gently presses down on the plunger. Cloud's back arches, his muscles going rigid as stone. The syringe empties, spilling J-cells into Cloud's brain. You imagine them spreading like mold, eagerly drinking in mako to facilitate their conquest. Cloud's tense muscles unlock, only to begin convulsing.

The syringe is empty. Hojo withdraws it, tapes gauze over Cloud's head as best as he can while Cloud seizes beneath him, and motions Matson forward. Matson forces open Cloud's jaw while Hojo shoves his specially manufactured hallucinogen down Cloud's throat. Cloud gags, trying to spit it up, but Matson holds his jaw closed and pinches his nose shut until Cloud has no choice but to swallow if he wants to breathe.

Cloud swallows. Matson and Hojo step back. There's nothing to do but wait until the J-cells settle into Cloud's brain and the drug takes effect.

The minutes tick by. Hojo glances at his watch every thirty seconds. You fidget with your pen. The Midgar scientists get antsy. Julia scratches something onto her veins on Barnes' forehead stand out. He'll have to recast silence soon. Hojo scowls impatiently and checks his watch yet again. Cloud's tremors are beginning to still. You're starting to think that Hojo's brilliant plan might be nothing but a failure. Barnes goes to recast silence, and…

An inhuman scream pierces the air. You slam your hands over your ears, the notebook you were supposed to be keeping notes in falling forgotten to the floor. You stagger backwards until the wall stops you from getting any farther away from that awful, terrible, wailing scream. Something crashes. Shattered glass rains over you. You instinctively dive under a desk.

The scream doesn't stop. It goes on and on, longer than what normal human lungs should be able to sustain. Your hair stands straight up on your scalp, cold spikes of fear spread like lightning through your chest. You press your hands harder over your ears to block out the scream, but to no avail. The scream still pierces your mind, consuming you, filling you with deep, unrelenting dread. You curl into a tighter ball, your fingers digging mercilessly into your scalp.

The lights flicker spasmodically, causing shadows to leap like demons throughout the lab. The scream continues, unnerving, rotten, and wrong. The lab's structural beams creak and groan, a directionless wind howls. The room goes dark, light, dark, light, _darklightdarklightdark…_ You squeeze your eyes shut and pray for the end.

Then…

….silence.

The lab is cast in an eerie glow as the emergency lights flicker on overhead. Dust drifts down from the ceiling. Chairs are overturned, cabinets are unbalanced, and loose papers are strewn everywhere. You pull your hands from your ringing ears. Strips of flesh come loose as you pull your nails away - you didn't realize you actually cut into your skin - but adrenaline blocks the pain. You cautiously peer out from under your desk. Across the room, you see Julia do the same. She also took shelter under a desk. Her eyes lock with yours, and you see genuine fear.

You crawl out from underneath your desk, slicing your palm on broken glass. Sound is still muffled and difficult to hear above the ringing in your ears. Your other colleagues materialize from behind cabinets and desks. Matson had the good sense to get out of the lab and seek shelter in the hallway.

The only person who remained in place is Hojo. He mindlessly brushes broken glass from his shoulder as he stares down, absolutely captivated, at Cloud.

_Holy…_

_Cloud._

His veins are visible as rivers of mako beneath his skin, which is coated in a fluorescent film of sweat. His eyes shine so brightly that they illuminate the particles of dust floating in the air around him. Bright tears drip steadily onto the table, glowing snot and saliva stain the lower half of his face. A thin line of blood trickles from his ears, and the wounds he opened by trashing against his restraints drip luminescence onto the table.

All of the mako Cloud's body has been storing has been unleashed by…by whatever _that_ was. You know Cloud has been absorbing incredible amounts of mako energy, but to see it pour out of him… He should have been dead months ago. He should be dead now. There's so much mako radiating off him that you're positive _you_ are going to get mako poisoning just from being in the same room as him.

Hojo, however, does not appear worried. He steps closer to Cloud, staring at him with rabid curiosity.

"Vitals," he orders without taking his eyes off Cloud. To your relief, Julia volunteers by stepping forward first, although there's a hesitance in her stride that you've never seen before. Her hand trembles slightly as she reaches for Cloud. Before she can touch him, Cloud's limp body becomes rigid, his eyes narrowing to slits, his teeth bared in a snarl. Julia leaps back, tearing her hand away and pulling it close to her chest.

Cloud's mouth begins to move…but it's not Cloud's voice that comes out. His voice is harsh and raspy, like dry leaves being blown over cold stone. He's speaking, but not in any language you've ever heard. It's nothing that belongs to this Planet. It's a chant, a dark prayer, a promise, a threat. Your hair stands on end. You suppress the urge to run.

"His eyes! Get documentation of his eyes!" Hojo has to shout over Cloud whose voice is steadily rising in volume. You would prefer to _not_ approach anyone who appears to have been possessed, but Hojo isn't to be ignored. You, Julia, and the visiting scientists swarm around Cloud. You catch sight of Cloud's eyes. They've changed.

It's as if the mako that completely flooded his pupils, irises, and sclera has been concentrated in the iris, coloring Cloud's eyes an acidic green. But what makes your stomach clench are his pupils. They're slits.

_Sephiroth._

Julia snaps photos of Cloud's eyes. You collect vial after vial of glowing blood. Cloud continues to chant, unaware of the hands on him.

Only Hojo remains unmoving in the chaos. He stands at the head of the table, leaning over Cloud so low that his forehead almost touches Cloud's.

"Speak to me, J-E-N-O-V-A." he whispers.

You lose yourself in the frenzy of collecting cell samples from Cloud and making sure that the recording equipment is picking up everything Hojo wants it to. It's therefore a bit jarring when Zack starts angrily demanding to know what's going on. You nearly forgot he is still in the room. His skin is covered in small cuts caused by the falling glass. He doesn't appear to notice, though, so caught up in his worry for Cloud.

"Take him away." Hojo orders Barnes and Matson, glancing away from Cloud for the first time since the procedure began. They sedate Zack and drag him from the lab. Cloud's voice begins to grow hoarse from the constant chanting, but he doesn't stop spitting mangled, inhuman phrases into the dead, lab air.

Is this what Hojo has been hoping for? Is this the connection with J-E-N-O-V-A he's been seeking? You gather that it is from the look of rapture on his face as he drinks in Cloud's words.

But if this is the map to The Promised Land, it sounds like it leads to hell, not paradise.

Cloud continues to chant steadily. As time passes, the glow of mako surrounding him dissipates. His veins no longer shine like rivers of mako and disappear under his skin. His blood darkens back to red. His sweat dries and fades to nothing. It seems as though the J-cells are eating through every molecule of mako Cloud's body has.

After an hour, his voice wears itself to a whisper. After two hours, a croak. After three, an unintelligible rasp. Near the four-hour mark, the movement of his lips, cracked and dry, slows and, eventually, stops. He lets out a shuddering sigh as his eyes flutter shut. Whatever J-E-N-O-V-A had to say, She must have finished saying it.

Hojo leans forward to whisper something against Cloud's forehead. He lingers for a moment before straightening his stiff spine. He looks up at the ceiling, the wonder on his face eventually being overtaken by euphoria. He raises his hands to the heavens as if in worship.

"Yes! _Yes!_ Magnificent, incredible!" he crows. "At last, at long last, I hear Her words, Her will!"

You glance uneasily at your colleagues. No one else seems to share Hojo's enthusiasm. If anything, the look on everyone else's face says that they think communicating with J-E-N-O-V-A is a mistake. Whatever _that_ was, it wasn't what anyone was expecting.

But Hojo can't, or won't, contain himself.

"Could you hear the wisdom in Her words? The undeniable grace?"

Everyone else in the room, yourself included, shifts uncomfortably. You think it would be fair to say that no one else would classify what you heard as wise or full of grace.

"We'll have to get a linguist to analyze the speech, of course." Hojo says, murmuring to himself. "But this is cause for celebration. The map to The Promised Land could lie within these recordings. Oh, how the President will regret his words… He'll never doubt me again!"

Hojo spins on his heel and jabs a finger at the Midgar scientist who was in charge of videotaping the entire procedure. "You! Come with me. We need to upload this footage to the database immediately."

Hojo has almost disappeared into his office when you stop him. "Sir! What should we do with Clo-…with TS-3?"

Hojo ignores you. Now that Cloud is no longer acting as J-E-N-O-V-A's mouthpiece, Hojo has no interest in him.

You take it upon yourself to patch up the hole in Cloud's head. It's so small and Cloud heals so fast that there's no need for him to spend any time in the mako tank. You have Barnes and Matson escort him back to his cell. Cloud gets off the table in a daze. His legs are unsteady at first, but they hold. He drifts like a ghost between Barnes and Matson towards the cell. You take a seat at your desk as the cell door clangs shut. Your knees groan as you sink into your chair and your muscle tremble, although you're not sure if it's from fatigue or residual adrenaline.

Zack's voice echoes down the hall. "Hey, buddy. You alright?"

Cloud gives no response.

"Cloud? Hellooo, can you hear me? Hey, Clou-…oh."

You imagine Zack catching sight of Sephiroth's eyes on Cloud's face. You hear him take a shuddering breath to steady himself.

"Cloud? You gotta say something to me, buddy, you're kind of freaking me out. …Cloud, come on, _please_."

Silence. Then, a yelp. The sound of flesh hitting flesh followed by a thud. The ragged inhale of someone who's had the wind knocked out of them. You're halfway to your feet to investigate when you hear Zack's shaking voice.

"Okay, you don't want to be touched right now…that's fine. I'll be over here if you need me."

Curious, you pull up the security camera footage. Zack is edging along the wall back to his cot. Cloud is standing, still as stone, by the cell door. You rewind the footage. The thud you heard had been caused by Zack's body hitting the wall. Cloud had kicked him in the chest after Zack tried taking Cloud's hands in his own. A tremor of fear rushes through you. Cloud would never attack Zack. Cloud isn't himself.

You keep an eye on the security camera footage while you finish entering data. By the time the work day is over, Cloud still hasn't moved.

That night, you can't sleep. Even alcohol does nothing to dull the lingering fear caused by everything you witnessed that day. An echo of that awful, unending scream still rings in your ears, as do the whispers of Cloud's otherworldly chant. When you shut your eyes, an imprint of Cloud's body, oozing luminescent mako, is burned into your eyelids. You stare dully at your ceiling until dawn and wonder if Cloud might attack Zack again during the night.

There's no cure for your fatigue when you pull yourself out of bed, but you do your best to wake up by taking a cold shower and drinking twice the amount of coffee as usual. Julia looks uncharacteristically unkempt. You'd be willing to bet that she didn't get any more sleep than you did last night. Barnes, Matson, and the visiting scientists look similarly exhausted.

The only person who doesn't look like death is Hojo. You're not sure if he left the lab at all last night, but he looks more refreshed than anyone else. The Midgar scientists leave shortly after breakfast. They were supposed to stay and watch Hojo repeat the procedure on Zack today, but after Hojo announced that he isn't going to bother with Zack given his success with Cloud, they decided to leave early. You think the mansion's dark, oppressive atmosphere also has something to do with their early departure.

You pull up the security camera feed as soon as you get to your desk and replay the footage from the night. You're curious to see if Cloud's status has changed. The footage shows Cloud remaining in place for hours. Sometime, around 2AM, he collapses as if he were a puppet with its strings cut.

Zack's by his side in seconds

You listen as Cloud, whose voice is as broken and jagged as glass from overuse, asks Zack to tell him what happened. Zack does his best to fill him in, but Zack's description of yesterday's events sounds hollow in comparison to reality. You figure Zack's doing his best to give Cloud the truth without scaring him.

Even still, Cloud drops his head into his hands. "I'm scared, Zack." he whispers.

"You and me both, buddy." Zack replies. "You and me both."

Hojo shuts himself in his office all day, asking you and Julia to collect blood samples from Cloud. As you do so, you remark that Cloud's eyes have gone back to normal, an honest-to-goodness normal, as they had been before mako exposure. In fact, Cloud's blood samples, though high in S- and J-cells, contain only trace amounts of mako. It seems that the J-cells really did burn through the mako stored in his body.

Hojo emerges from his office at the end of the day to inform you and Julia that you both are going to Midgar in two days to report to the President. You're stunned. There is over a month left before the final report is due. But Hojo, who is still vibrating with yesterday's success, doesn't want to wait. He wants to smear his results in President Shinra's face.

You text your family for the first time in months to ask if they'd be willing to meet you in Midgar again. They agree immediately. You wonder how you could deserve people who love you enough to drop everything to see you after you've treated them like shit.

The next day you instruct Barnes on how to draw blood from Cloud while Julia helps Hojo put together the report. Cloud's eyes haven't regained their glow and his blood still only contains marginal amounts of mako.

"How are you feeling?" you ask him while pressing a cotton ball against the puncture wound you left when withdrawing the needle. He heals so fast now that the hole in his skin probably closed the moment the needle left his flesh, but old habits die hard.

"Fine." he mutters, not looking at you. Something doesn't seem right to you, though, so you check him over, but everything appears normal.

Still, when you're watching the mansion disappear in the rearview mirror on the way to the helipad, you can't help but feel like something is wrong with Cloud.

You get to Midgar late that night. Your family won't be joining you until after your first round of meetings tomorrow, so you down the tiny bottles of vodka, gin, and whiskey in the hotel's mini-fridge to settle your nerves.

Hojo's initial report is to the President, Vice President, Scarlet, and Heidegger. You assume Scarlet's there because her team assisted with Hojo's latest J-E-N-O-V-A experiment, but you can't figure out why Heidegger's there. You guess it's not for you to question. You sit and listen as Hojo describes his breakthrough with Cloud in scientific terms with none of the raw fear or dread that permeate your memories of that day. The others are suitably impressed, especially when Scarlet comments that the visiting members of her team were "moved" by what they witnessed.

You suppose that's one way of putting it.

Hojo replays footage from the procedure for the President, edited so only the highlights show. You avert your gaze, not needing to see the events unfold again. You already relived them in your sleep last night. Still, the audio dredges up the fear you felt that day. You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and splash cold water on your face.

Your family arrives that night. They're overjoyed to see you, and you them, but your mom casts a critical eye at you. You know what she sees. Bloodshot eyes. Broken capillaries across your skin. A bloated gut. The permanent smell of alcohol on your breath. It doesn't help that she spots the empty bottles you drank last night in the trash. She sees an alcoholic. You want to tell her she's wrong, but even as the defensive words rise in your throat, you know she's right.

You can't enjoy the night with your family like you want to. All you can think of is how to sneak away to kick back your next drink.

The next day, you're irritated to find out that Hojo's meeting with the President is private and you and Julia have to sit outside. You really wish Hojo believed in granting days off; you could be spending the day with your family (or at a bar) instead.

You sit outside the conference room and stare sullenly at Midgar down below. What would it be like to jump from this high?

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. It's Barnes.

"Hello?"

"Where's Hojo?" he asks, not wasting time with a greeting.

"He's in a meeting with the President."

"Get him. Cloud's dying."

You feel like you've been punched.

"W-what? How? What happened to him?"

"I don't know," Barnes' voice is tight. "I took some blood, just like you showed me. He was fine when I took him back to the cell, _I swear._ Zack started throwing a fit a while later. When I got there, Cloud was… He's not _right._ He's freezing. I brought him a blanket. Zack's trying to keep him warm now. He's awake, but he doesn't seem to know where he is. Just…get back here as soon as possible. _Please._ "

Barnes is scared, and for good reason. If Cloud dies in his care, you're pretty sure Barnes dies too.

"I…I can't stop the meeting." you stammer, feeling useless. "It's with the _President…_ "

"Cloud might not have that long. We need Hojo back _now_."

You press your free hand over your eyes. "It's going to take us all day to get back, Barnes…"

"…I know."

"I'll get him."

"I'll do what I can here."

You fill Julia in on the situation. It takes you a minute to build up the courage to knock on the conference room's door, but, once you do, you slip inside and quietly relay what Barnes told you into Hojo's ear. You feel the President's disapproving glare burn into the back of your skull. The chair's armrests groan as Hojo clenches his fingers around them. You hear his teeth gnash together. He tells you to wait outside.

He storms out of the conference room minutes after you do. You and Julia scurry to keep up with him. You can't even stop by the hotel to gather your things. You're swept from Midgar directly from the Shinra Building's text your family to ask if they can collect your belongings from the hotel and take them home with them. It's not like you can tell them where to mail your things.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to the mansion. The air is clear and quiet, so unlike Midgar, but you don't have time to reflect on the differences because Hojo commands you to follow him down into the lab. Julia is hot on your heels.

It's too late.

Zack is on the ground holding Cloud's body close to him. Cloud is limp, his skin gray. A thousand thoughts flood your mind at the same time. Sadness for Cloud. Heartbreak for Zack. Fear of Hojo. Anxiety for Barnes and Matson. Relief that Cloud's suffering is over.

But then Cloud sucks in a small, painful, rattling breath.

Matson, Barnes, Hojo, Julia, and you swarm the cell. Cloud looks like even the smallest shock of static would kill him right now, so Zack is subdued with a heavy dose of tranquilizer rather than the electric cuff. Even still, Matson and Barnes have to wrestle Zack away from Cloud. Zack's grip is like iron. Hojo leans over Cloud, taking his temperature and searching for his pulse.

"Get him to the lab." he orders Barnes and Matson. They bring a gurney over and lift Cloud's body onto it. Zack, paralyzed but semi-conscious, watches them wheel Cloud away. Tears run steadily down his face.

You help transfer Cloud to the operating table. His skin is ice under your grip. He's holding on, but barely.

Hojo doesn't bother with diagnostics to determine what's happening to Cloud. It's obvious. He's dying from severe cellular degradation. His body, addicted to mako after two years of constant exposure, is killing its own cells to replace the mako burned away by J-E-N-O-V-A's cells. Hojo begins to try everything he can to save the experiment that he, just twenty-four hours ago, was declaring his greatest success to the President. Nothing is working. Cloud continues to fade.

Your initial thought is to throw Cloud into a mako tank. His body would accept the mako and stop its self-destruction…but you know that that's only half of what Cloud needs. Cloud would survive in a mako tank, but he's too far gone to ever have a hope of living outside it. His damaged cells have already caused widespread organ failure, and you wouldn't be surprised to find brain damage as well. With or without the mako tank, Cloud is finished.

Around 11AM, Hojo snaps. Haggard from lack of sleep, frustration, and shame, he slams his clipboard hard enough against a desk to snap it in half. He throws the pieces across the room and sweeps a line of glass vials off a shelf. You flinch and back out of his path of destruction.

_"You!"_ he screams, rounding on Barnes. "What did you do?! He was fine when we left!"

Barnes throws himself backwards. Although Barnes a good foot on Hojo and could probably snap him like a toothpick, you'd place your money on Hojo today. There's murder in his eyes.

"I just took blood samples like you told me to! That's it! I swear!" Barnes protests. "He was fine when I took him back to his cell!"

"You must have done _something_ wrong!"

"Check the cameras! I did everything just like you showed me!"

Hojo screams with wordless rage and kicks a metal tray. Surgical tools go flying. "My experiments don't just _die for no reason."_

You know there's a large body of evidence (several bodies, actually) to disprove that claim, but you know better than to bring that up right now.

"You!" Hojo advances on Matson now, shaking a trembling finger in his face. "You must have done _something_."

"I didn't touch him." Matson says stoically, unmoved by Hojo's aggression.

"Then you must have not been close enough attention to him!" Hojo screeches.

He turns on Cloud. _"You! Worthless! Failure!"_ he snarls, striking Cloud across the face with each word. Cloud's head snaps limply from side to side with each blow. _"You! Are! Nothing!"_

_"Sir!"_ you interject, surprising yourself. You do your best not to wither under Hojo's fury. "Don't… That isn't helping."

Hojo wheels around to glare at you. He looks positively deranged with his yellowed teeth bared, his bloodshot eyes narrowed. "What does it matter?! Look at him! He's as good as dead! Two years of work down the drain. Nothing more than a waste of time and resources."

"We…we might still be able to save him."

Hojo laughs hysterically, a truly demonic sound. "You're even more of an idiot than I thought. TS-3 is either going to die or spend the rest of his life in a coma submerged in mako. He's not going to be the mouthpiece of J-E-N-O-V-A. He's not going to be the next Sephiroth. He's _nothing_."

He turns back to Cloud. You sense his demeanor shift, his fire-hot anger simmering to cold disdain. He glares down at Cloud, sneering. "I was a fool to believe he could be anything more." he spits.

Hojo remains standing there for a while longer, eyes locked on Cloud. His head tilts slowly from side to side as if he's weighing multiple choices in his mind.

"…are you worth the resources to keep you?" Hojo asks himself aloud. "Or should I cut my losses and kill you? Storing dead bodies is easier than live ones."

Your stomach churns. Death might not be much different from spending life floating comatose in mako, but the thought of euthanizing Cloud leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Hojo frowns. "Put him in stasis." he says to no one in particular. "Him and that other failure. I need time to think." He leaves the lab.

You turn back to Cloud. His chest rises and falls feebly, irregularly.

"I guess this is it, huh?" Barnes mutters darkly. "Kid made it for two years in this hellhole and finally broke."

Before you can respond, Barnes scoops up Cloud from underneath his arms while Matson grabs his ankles. They place him in the tank, same as they had done hundreds of times over the past two years. But this time, as they seal the door shut, it feels different. It feels final. Like a goodbye.

You fill the tank. Cloud's body floats off the floor, suspended, lifeless.

"…might as well get Zack now, huh?" Barnes asks.

"…yeah." you say, although that's the last thing you want to do. It's one thing to put a dying teenager into stasis. It's another to do the same to someone who is perfectly healthy. "Might as well."

Zack's eyes search yours for an answer to a question he's too afraid to ask. Barnes has no trouble getting him to cooperate to come down to the lab. Zack steps into the lab hesitantly, as if scared of what he might find. A quiet moan of grief escapes him when he sees Cloud floating motionless inside the tank.

"Is…is he…?"

His only answer is to be hit with a heavy sedative. Barnes unlocks the electric cuff from his ankle and works with Matson to shove Zack's body inside the other tank. You fill it, adding the formula that will indefinitely keep him in an artificial coma. You know it's reversible at any time, so it's not like you're killing him…so why does it feel like you are?

And, just like that, Project S-II concludes.

Hojo never formally decides to keep Cloud and Zack alive. He just does. He never verbalizes his reasoning, but you suspect it's to remind him of his failure. He never speaks of them again, but he also doesn't hide them away. You sometimes catch him staring at them with a mixture of disgust, self-loathing, and resolve painted across his face.

It takes copious amounts of damage control, but Hojo manages to convince the President that Cloud and Zack's failure is actually a success. Hojo assures the President that Project S-II was nothing more than a learning experience, a launching pad for Project S-III and Hojo's new Reunion Theory. Incredibly, the President funds the project.

Besides…Hojo already has all of the human test subjects he needs on hand. He finally has a use for the Nibelheim survivors.

You wake the survivors. The woman with gray hair. The boy who still carries baby fat in his cheeks. The girl with freckles across her nose. The man with calloused hands. Their confusion, questions, fear, and screams tear you apart from the inside out. You, Julia, Barnes, Matson, and Hojo work day and night, repeating the procedures done to Cloud and Zack. Hojo has streamlined the process, so it now takes less time to put each test subject through Phase I and Phase II. When Cloud and Zack's old cell becomes overcrowded, others are shoved into the three remaining cells, despite those cells not being designed to accommodate humans. You lose count of the number of people who pass beneath your hands.

You no longer try to disguise the fact that you're coming to the lab drunk every morning. You can't handle this. Barnes can't either. He goes off walking in the mountains one day, his gun glinting on his hip. He never comes back. You wish you had his courage. You wish you didn't have a family who would suffer the consequences if you followed in his footsteps.

Although Hojo never admits that he broke Cloud by forcing that final connection with J-E-N-O-V-A, he now stops short of pushing the Nibelheim survivors that far. Even still, not all of them survive. You begin stacking cairns along the trail behind the mansion to commemorate them. You wish you knew their names. The ones that do survive are tattooed with numbers.

You're not sure where the survivors go until you pass through Nibelheim on your way to the helipad to collect your monthly drop of supplies. Shinra's construction team did a fantastic job of rebuilding a perfect copy of the old town, but it's laid empty for years. For that reason, you slam on the brakes when you pass through and see that the town is bustling. Someone is collecting water from the well. A shopkeeper is waving from his window. A woman sits in a rocking chair on her porch. You do a double-take. It's the survivors. You squeeze the steering wheel tight as you watch the people you cut open and stitch back together go about everyday tasks as if nothing had ever happened to them.

…except something's wrong.

As you watch, you notice that everyone seems to be on a loop. The person collecting water from the well lifts and lowers the bucket on repeat, never actually withdrawing water. The shopkeeper continues to wave from his window at no one. The woman rocks aimlessly in her chair, staring at nothing. At first glance, the people look normal enough…but there's a blankness behind their eyes. These are no longer real people. They're empty shells. You glue your eyes to the road and press on.

When there are no more Nibelheim survivors left to experiment on, Hojo declares that he's returning to Midgar. He's spent far too long away from his main lab and is eager to pick up the experiments he left behind when he came to Nibelheim. He brings Julia and Matson with him but leaves you to look after the Nibelheim Lab. It's a punishment and you know it. You're a worthless drunk.

A few months into your isolation, a wiry guy with sandy-brown hair named Scott is sent to be stationed with you in Nibelheim. You're not sure what he did to deserve this punishment, but you're grateful for his company. You don't talk much, but it's enough to share breakfast with someone.

You spend most of your time sitting on the mansion's front stoop drinking whisky straight from the bottle until you pass out. Then, when the summer turns to fall, you move inside and drink in the great room. There's nothing else to do. Scott joins you sometimes.

October comes and goes, marking four years of living in the Shinra Mansion. Your houseplant commemorates the occasion by needing to be repotted into a larger container.

The temperature plummets in November and even more so in December, but no snow falls. You'd be glad for a longer hiking season, if you still hiked.

Instead, you wander the mansion's empty corridors. You pass through Dom's old room, which has never been cleared out. Packs of cigarettes, dirty laundry, and half-full bottles of bourbon litter the floor. You claim the bourbon but leave everything else.

Julia's room looks as though she never lived in it, although the white corner of a paper half-tucked underneath a dresser catches your eye. You pull it out. It's a children's drawing of a woman and little girl together. Across the top of the page, it reads:

_hi mommy! i miss you! school is very fun. love kalya ps i cant_ _wate_ _wait to see you!_

The _a_ 's are written backwards. You tuck the paper into your pocket. You'll give it to Julia if you ever see her again.

Barnes' room is unkempt. He left his bed unmade and his laundry unfolded. You guess he didn't see the point of cleaning up if he knew he wasn't coming back.

Matson's room is totally cleared out, his bed made with military precision. You purposefully rumple the sheets so it doesn't look so goddamn perfect.

The hardest room to pass through is Clark's. Like Dom's, no one has ever taken the time to go through it and clean it up. The corner of his rug is upturned, like he kicked it up by rushing over it in a hurry. You suppose he must have since his final moments were spent trying to get to the lab to check on the equipment after the storm killed the power. There's an empty glass by his bed, a bottle of sleeping pills, and a dusty journal. You open it and flip to a random page.

_I want to die._

_But I'm too scared to do it myself._

_Is there a heaven for cowards like me?_

_No._

_Only_ **_HELL_ ** _._

_But maybe Hell is better than here._

You throw the journal into the fire later that night and watch it burn.

When you drink yourself into enough of a stupor, you wander the lab and the catacombs. You see flashes of the past in your peripheral vision and hear the echoes of Cloud, Zack, and the Nibelheim Survivors' screams. Every breath you take smells like their blood. You're surrounded by ghosts, but none of them want to talk to you. _You_ don't even want to talk to you.

The days blur together into one, unending nightmare, only broken by the rare occasions you wake up sober and need to drink yourself numb again. Then, one day, the nightmare is shattered completely.

You turn the corner and only have enough time to register a fast-moving, dark blur coming at you before you're shoved against the wall. Your hands scrabble uselessly against a beam of hard iron pressing against your neck. Except it's not iron. It's Zack Fair's forearm.

_How…?_

Black spots dance across your vision. Behind them, you see narrowed, mako eyes glaring raw fury at you.

_How did he get out?!_

You feel your body going limp.

Behind Zack, Cloud is slumped against the wall like a rag doll.

Your fingers weakly tug at his arm.

"Please…" you choke out. " _Don't_ …"

But you remember all of the times he and Cloud begged for mercy and you didn't grant it to them. You know Zack remembers too. He doesn't remove the pressure from your neck.

So this is it.

In a way, you are kind of glad.

Maybe the nightmare would now be over.

You pray that Hojo will leave your family alone since you didn't choose this.

Your sight fades and you become light as your mind detaches from your body. You're sinking into a warm, dark, bottomless pit, your body sags, your hands fall to your sides, your eyes roll to the back of your head…and then…

_…nothing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.P.S. Please send those other fic recs, if you have any! :)


	7. Chapter 7

You're alive.

Zack, who killed Clark without hesitation, left you and Scott alive. Your throat is so inflamed that you can barely talk and Scott is suffering from a semi-major concussion, but you're both alive.

You're not sure if you're grateful or not.

Scott is the first to voice the need to get out of the mansion. You swiftly agree with him. Although the mansion is quite possibly the safest place to be - you can't image Zack and Cloud wanting to come back - you don't feel safe here either. The Shinra Army has barracks hidden in Nibelheim and taking shelter with them seems like a better option.

You still feel dizzy from your last binge, but Scott is having trouble walking in straight lines so you figure you're probably the safer choice of driver right now. You help Scott into the van, climb into the driver's seat, and lock the doors. You doubt locking the doors provides much additional protection against someone like Zack, but it makes you feel a bit more secure.

You take it slow on your way to Nibelheim, being extra careful to hug the inside of the road when it twists near cliffs. You think you're driving pretty well given the circumstances, but Scott occasionally sucks in a sharp breath and reaches for imaginary brakes around tight corners. You finally turn the van into Nibelheim and find chaos.

Pools of blood mark the spaces where bodies used to be, while those lucky enough to still live limp, crawl, or drag themselves back to base. A sergeant stops you as you step out of the van.

"Who in the hell ar-, oh. You're from the mansion, aren't you?"

You answer him with a short nod. Although the army isn't allowed inside the mansion, they at least know a few Shinra scientists live there.

"What happened here?" you rasp even though you can guess.

"Got a ping there were a couple of escaped experiments heading this way. Gotta say, I wasn't expecting the experiments to be so…human-shaped."

You don't respond. The less the sergeant knows, the better. Shinra doesn't like people knowing about their human-shaped experiments.

"…well," the sergeant continues after it becomes clear you're not going to elaborate. "I sent my boys out. Thought it'd be quick. An entire platoon against two guys? Easy. Blond one didn't really even count, since he had about as much life in him as a brick. But, uh…"

The sergeant's body language and tone shift. His shoulders tense and there's a tremor in his voice that was previously absent. "I've never seen anyone fight like that. Not once. I've never been one to commend turning tail, but I can't blame the ones who ran today. Those with the good sense to run are the ones you see now."

You take another look at the survivors. They're in terrible shape.

"He fell three of my men with a single blow." the sergeant continues. "I've never seen anything like it… It was like he was possessed. We tried to grab his friend, but that just pissed him off even more. I've seen men fight for their lives time and time again, but never have I seen anyone fight with that much desperation…"

"Is that when your men turned and ran?"

"No." The sergeant's voice shakes. "That's when those who waited to run found out it was too late."

You get to work patching up the survivors. They're a meager bunch, still shaking with residual adrenaline and shock. One disintegrates back into the lifestream under your fingertips. The blow that nearly severed his leg lost him too much blood, despite the messy tourniquet his comrades tried to put on him.

One man speaks to you while you sew shut the gaping wound across his hip.

"That was Zack Fair, wasn't it?"

You keep your eyes trained on the needle and thread.

"Looked just like him. Except the eyes. His eyes were too hard."

You stay silent.

"I trained under him, you know. He led me and the other cadets through a few drills. Best damn instructor we ever had."

You concentrate on knotting the thread together. Just a few more stitches and the man should be fine.

"Why was Zack in that mansion?"

You slip the needle under his skin.

"What happened to him? What did you do to him?"

You pull the thread through more roughly than intended. The man hisses in pain.

"That wasn't Zack Fair." you lie. "And you'd be better off forgetting that you ever thought so."

The man sits in silence, thinking through the implications your words held. "…understood." he finally replies.

You and Scott stay the night in the barracks. The army has a strict no-alcohol policy on its premises, so you struggle to fall asleep without your usual dose of mind-numbing medicine. You toss and turn, listening to the quiet groans of the wounded and the deafening silence from the dead's empty beds.

Why had you and Scott been left alive? Scott, perhaps, you could understand. He arrived after Cloud and Zack were put in stasis, so Zack wouldn't have anything personal against him. You, however, are more than deserving of death at Zack's hands. But why leave behind two people who could sound the alarm upon waking? Why leave you alive when he had murdered Clark without a second thought?

Maybe that's just it. You remember that faint flicker of regret in Zack's eyes during your conversation about Clark's death. Maybe that regret went deeper than you thought.

Or you could be overthinking it. Zack could have been disoriented from waking from a two-year coma and didn't realize he'd left you alive. That'd help explain why he had no problem cutting down nearly an entire platoon of troopers.

Then again, they were trying to stop Zack and you were not. They had weapons and you did not.

Could that be why he left you and Scott alive?

Your mind goes in circles until you finally come to the conclusion that whatever the reason Zack let you live, you'll probably never know. Your mind also won't stop reminding you that just because Zack left you alive, that doesn't mean Hojo will.

You and Scott receive summons to Midgar the following day. You're surprised Hojo doesn't fly out to inspect the mansion himself, especially given that the security cameras didn't capture Zack and Cloud's escape. Turns out, they have been offline for the better part of the past six months. When Barnes and Matson lived in the mansion, regular maintenance on the cameras was part of their jobs. Since they left, that job fell to you…except Hojo never told you so. Not your fault, but you wouldn't be surprised if Hojo holds it against you anyways.

The sergeant escorts you and Scott back to the mansion to collect your belongings. You pack up your clothes, grab your houseplant, and stuff a bottle of vodka into your bag for the flight back to Midgar. You can only assume you're heading for your execution, so you might as well live it up while you can.

But Hojo doesn't order your death. He barely even seems to be aware that the two experiments who consumed his life for two years have escaped. You hear that the Turks and Army have been assigned to tracking down Cloud and Zack, so it's out of his department, anyways. And, besides…

…Hojo has new toys to play with.

His new toys are genetic monstrosities created with cells sourced from J-E-N-O-V-A, who you're disappointed to learn now lives in the Midgar lab. Although the experiments are blessedly non-human, the work is still gruesome enough to make you wish Hojo had decided to kill you after all. Perhaps he would have - especially after you drunkenly vomit into a waste bin one day - if a monster hadn't killed two employees around the same time Cloud and Zack escaped. You might reek of alcohol and stumble when you walk, but Hojo would rather take you than hire someone new. He hates recruiting.

Scott joins the Midgar team alongside you and you understand immediately why he was sent to Nibelheim. He has a habit of constantly challenging Hojo and disagreeing with his science. You want to kick Scott in the shins every time he opens his mouth. You can't think of a faster way to go from scientist to experiment, except for trying to quit, of course. Fortunately for him, he's good at his job, so Hojo continues to tolerate him.

Matson is still around doing the heavy lifting and he helps you out from time to time. He's still gruff and thinks you need to improve your cleaning skills, but he shares his lunch with you when you wake up too hungover to pack one. Julia also still works for Hojo, although she acts as though you two never met before. You give her the child's drawing you found in her room back in Nibelheim. She glances at it, her expression remaining cold and neutral. She drops the drawing into the trash without hesitation and walks away.

Later, however, you catch her quickly fishing it out of the trash and stowing it in her purse when she thinks you're not looking. She might be better at playing Hojo's game than you are, but you're no longer fooled.

You find a new apartment with a guest room your dad can use during his monthly trips to Midgar for cancer treatments. He's often joined by your mom, sister, and Evan, especially during the first few months when they're desperate to reconnect with you after years of silence, but sometimes he comes alone.

You can tell he's desperate to figure out what happened to you, but he doesn't pelt you with an unrelenting stream of questions like your mom does. He just takes you to his favorite haunts he's discovered by visiting Midgar over the past several years and quietly sits with you while you watch people walk by.

You sit together for hours like that, just side-by-side in quiet contemplation. There are so many times when you feel the words bubble up in you, the confessions, the sins, the guilt, but you can never bring yourself to tell him. So you just sit next to him while tears drip silently down your face and he holds your hand.

About six months after returning to Midgar, you and your dad are sitting on a bench in Sector Eight near the Loveless Theatre. It's one of your favorite and least favorite places to sit because there are always happy people there. Couples on dates, families on outings, friends creating memories… You simultaneously love and hate the reminders that regular people living regular lives still exist.

It's getting late, so your dad squeezes your hand to let you know he's nearly ready to leave. You dry your eyes and stand up. As you do, a young woman approaches you.

Her brown hair tied back with a ribbon and she has the greenest eyes you've ever seen. She wears a pink dress and carries a basket of yellow flowers that remind you of the ones that cover the Nibel Mountains in the springtime. You stare at them, lost in thought, before you realize she's talking to you.

"You look like you could use this." she says, pressing a flower into your hands. You look down at it blankly before realizing that she is probably trying to scam you.

"No thanks." you reply gruffly, trying to give it back.

She delicately steps away and shakes her head when she understands what you're thinking. "No, it's a gift. Please, take it."

You look at the flower again. It _is_ lovely, and its fragrance is a breath of fresh air in Midgar's mako-laden smog.

"If you don't want it, I'll take it." your dad jokes.

The woman laughs. It's a beautiful laugh, light and sparkling. You feel something unlock in your chest. The woman says "In that case, here's one for you too!"

Your dad accepts the flower with a smile. The woman turns her attention back to you. "This heaviness you're carrying, you'll find something to do with it. I know you will."

You frown. "How did you..?"

But she ignores your question and steps closer to you, her eyes searching yours. "I…I'm not sure why, but I feel like you're linked to someone who was very dear to me… I feel like you could have the answers I've been looking for all this time."

"What are you talking about?"

She bites her lip and looks as though she's deciding whether or not to ask you an important question. "Did you…did you happen to know someone named Z-"

"Excuse me! Miss! _Miss!_ Can I buy a flower, please? My date's going to be here any second!"

The woman takes a sharp breath as if she were just doused with icy water. She takes a step back and tugs self-consciously on the hem of her jacket.

"I'm sorry for troubling you." she apologizes, reading the unease on your face. "I must have mistaken you for somebody else. Please, enjoy your flowers!"

And she turns to assist the flower-seeking individual.

You haven't received any updates about Cloud or Zack since returning to Midgar. You imagine they probably died months ago given that they escaped into the Nibel Mountains in December. SOLDIER or not, you can't imagine anyone surviving a winter in that kind of wilderness.

But in September, you see an email in Hojo's inbox as you're transferring files to his computer. It reads _Escaped Subject - Terminated_.

You open the message before thinking through whether or not you should.

Zack Fair didn't die in the Nibel Mountains last December. He died yesterday on a cliff just a few miles outside Midgar, gunned down by hundreds of Shinra troopers. The report mentions severe casualties sustained by Shinra. Zack must have given them a hell of a fight. Cloud is still reported as missing, although he's presumed to be dead. Shinra hadn't been able to find him. Given his mako poisoning, you suspect that Cloud probably rejoined the lifestream soon after escaping the mansion. There's no way anyone in his condition would last a week outside of a mako tank, let alone survive a journey over the mountains and sea to Midgar.

Even though you had long assumed Cloud and Zack to be dead, it still hits you hard to receive confirmation. You didn't realize it, but you had been subconsciously rooting for them. You were hoping, against all odds, they'd get a happy ending.

The following month, the Sector Six Plate drops during construction. Then, just a few months after that, there's a series of reactor bombings throughout Midgar led by the eco-terrorist group, Avalanche. The bombings dominate every conversation you overhear until the Sector Seven Plate collapses, killing everyone living on and under it. News outlets report nonstop on Shinra's ongoing, heroic efforts to recover survivors from the rubble. You call bullshit. You've been inside Shinra's rotten belly for far too long to believe that they care about Sector Seven.

Just two days after the Plate collapsed, you come into work to find Shinra in complete disarray. Avalanche broke in the previous night and caused hell. The reports are confusing, and the camera footage is blurry, but rumors also circulate of Sephiroth walking the halls of Shinra once more. J-E-N-O-V-A has been stolen, plucked right from her tank, but Hojo is mysteriously overjoyed. President Shinra is dead. His son, Rufus, takes his place as president.

Your family calls you a few weeks later to tell you that Mideel was destroyed by a sudden upwelling of the lifestream. They tell you to be careful. You tell them the same.

It's hard to stay safe when a Planetary Weapon attacks Midgar, though. You stare disbelievingly at its hulking form approaching Midgar. You'd thought Planetary Weapons were a myth.

"Sir, we need to go!" Matson urges Hojo. Hojo stands at the window, staring at the Weapon with an expression that's too calm for the situation at hand. Matson steps in front of him. "That thing is coming right at us! We need leave _now."_

Hojo shakes his head, humming absentmindedly. "No."

"Do you understand me?!" Matson snaps. "If we don't leave now, we could die. Let's go."

Hojo turns his back on him and walks to the stairs that lead towards the Sister Ray, a massive cannon Shinra had moved from Junon not long ago. "No. There's something I have to do."

You and Matson watch his retreating form until it disappears, twin expressions of disbelief on your faces.

"I'm not waiting for him." you say.

"Me neither. Let's get out of here."

The elevators are packed to the brim and are being called to every floor. You and Matson figure it might be faster to take the stairs. You join the legions of employees flooding down the staircase to the exit. Around the fifteenth floor, the stairwell gets so backed up with people that you slow to a crawl, crammed elbow-to-elbow. The air is rank with sweat, respired air, and fear. Someone elbows you in the gut. You step on someone's foot. Someone goes down in the crush of people and can't get back up. You lose track of Matson without realizing that that will be the last time you'll see him.

You're just past the third floor when the building begins to shudder ominously. The power flickers. Screams echo up the stairwell. Someone tugs at your coat as they try and pull themselves past you.

You should have left with Scott and Julia who fled at first mention of the Weapon. You hope Julia makes it to her daughter.

You're on the second floor when the building gives a massive lurch. The steel beams around you creak and you hear glass shatter. The power goes out completely. For a few, claustrophobic seconds, you're plunged into complete darkness. Hot bodies press themselves against you on all sides. You can't breathe. Then, those who haven't lost their minds pull their phones out of their pockets and turn on the flashlights. You continue creeping down the stairs, one inch at a time.

At last, you burst out of the Shinra Building with a flood of other sweating, panicked people. A sea of glass crunches underfoot. You have to do a double-take to make sure the exit let you out in the right city. Midgar is unrecognizable.

The streetlights are out. There's no soft light glowing within the windows of homes. Shops, usually lit up like beacons to attract customers, are dark. No pillars of green from the mako reactors illuminate the sky, which now shows nothing but the foreboding emptiness of space.

Bursts of raw energy shoot through the sky. You squint, their brightness painful after so much dark. For a moment, it looks as though they'll pass harmlessly over Midgar. Then the Plate quakes and explosions rip through the air. The people around you start running. You do too.

You're no more than a block away when a burst of hot air slams into your back and shoves you to the ground. You lie there, needing a moment to process what happened. Someone trips over you. You get on your hands and knees to crawl out of the street. You turn back to see the uppermost floors of the Shinra Building engulfed in white-hot flames.

Sirens wail in the distance and a general cacophony of human shock and panic fill the air. You blindly sprint to your apartment as fast as your weak, alcohol-addicted body will let you. It's mercifully still standing. You shut yourself inside and wait for the chaos outside to subside. The leaves of your houseplant tremble with every quake that ripples through the Plate.

There's a heaviness in the air the following morning. Ash drifts through the city like fog, and the charred scent of burning wood, plastic, and metal lingers in the air. You call Hojo to see if he expects you to come into work. You're sent straight to voicemail. You try Julia's cell. You're sent straight to voicemail. You call Matson. The phone rings until it nearly goes to voicemail and you're about to resort to calling Scott when Matson picks up.

"Hey." His voice is grim.

"Hey, I was just calling to see if you know what's going on today."

"I'd stay away from Shinra if I were you." he says. You hear people arguing in the background.

"What's going on?"

"Rufus is dead."

"The explosion…?"

"It killed him, yeah."

"What about Hojo?"

"Dead. Avalanche took him out. Last I heard, Scarlet and Heidegger are dead too. Listen, I'm getting out of town. I don't li-"

You can't hear him anymore. Your head is overtaken by a powerful buzzing that drowns out every thought. You're floating strangely in your own skin. On autopilot, you hang up on Matson, tug on your shoes, and leave your apartment. You don't remember walking to the Shinra Building, but you wake up shoving your way through a crowd of gawking onlookers to see Shinra's destruction for yourself.

The Shinra Building is slumped like a decapitated monster against the gray sky. The lobby, normally immaculately polished, is coated in a sea of glass and dust. You crane your neck, looking up, up, up, taking in the gaping, black holes where glittering windows used to shine until your eyes land on the top floors where you wasted so many miserable hours of your life. The metal is blackened and twisted from the impact. You count down from the top to find what's left of the sixty-fifth, sixty-sixth, sixty-seventh, and sixty-eighth floors. Black smoke billows from the shattered windows. You try to picture the lab, all scorched and scarred, the glass tubes of mako tanks shattered from the heat, the test subjects trapped inside broiled to crisps. You imagine mangled lab tech, cracked computer screens, stacks of charts and graphs reduced to powdery ash…

...and you imagine Hojo, bloody, bruised, and broken, falling lifeless to the floor.

The man who made you into a monster is dead.

There are no words for what you feel right then, but the wild, uncontrollable sobs that claw themselves from deep in your belly and out your throat are close. Your high keening turns into a ragged wail as you sink to your knees and desperately clutch your arms around you as the emotions threaten to tear you apart from the inside. You grief-stricken screams give way to hysterical laughter. You pull wildly at your hair, you rock back and forth on your knees, you shake your head from side to side. You spit and hiss and yell and howl, trying to purge yourself of the years of misery and suffering you've bottled inside yourself for the past seven years. A stranger kneels beside you to comfort you, thinking you're crying tears of anguish. You cry harder because you can't explain that they are tears of relief.

You decide to leave Midgar the following day. There's nothing left for you here. Shinra is dead as a man, company, and idea. You don't need anyone to tell you that you no longer have a job. Besides, you'd rather spend the last weeks of your father's life by his side. With Shinra collapsing, it won't be long until his medicine runs out. You pack up your belongings, grab your houseplant, and tell your landlord you're leaving.

"Are you kidding?" he complains. "You're the fifth unit to move out today. How am I going to make money?"

You wish him the best and catch a train to the coast.

As Midgar sinks below the horizon, you expect a weight to lift from your shoulders. You think to yourself _it's over, it's over, it's over_ and wait for peace to settle in. The weight doesn't lift. You feel no peace. You should've known your demons are the persistent type.

Since Mideel was destroyed, the ferry no longer makes regular trips to its shores, so you have to convince a fisher boat to take you over instead. You stumble onto the ruined docks and search for the bus to your town, but it's no longer there. With a tired sigh, you adjust your grip on your suitcase and houseplant and start walking. You're lucky that the sky is clear and the moon is bright, although you swear there's a new star in the sky you've never seen before.

You stagger onto your family's porch in the early hours of the morning, your feet bruised and bleeding from hours on the road. You rap your knuckles on the front door. The lights flicker on behind the windows. Your father's suspicious eyes peer out from around the curtain before widening in shock as he realizes who it is. He throws the door open and pulls you into his arms. Your mother and sister join him moments later. You're all crying.

You awkwardly introduce yourself to your sister's husband for the first time before he goes to put Evan, awoken by the commotion, back to bed. Your mom pulls you into the kitchen and your dad heats up a bowl of homemade soup and sets it in front of you. It smells delicious, but you can't bring yourself to eat. You have bad news to deliver.

Your mom takes it the worst.

"Surely they'll figure something out."

You shake your head, staring at the now-cold bowl of soup in front of you. "Shinra's president and top executives are dead. The building's totally destroyed. There's no recovering from that."

"What about that doctor? Can't she make the medicine on her own?"

"The Shinra Building isn't safe to enter. She can't get to her clinic."

"What if they sent in those little robots? What if they could get the supplies out?"

Your dad covers your mom's hand and gives her a meaningful look. "It's fine." he says simply.

Your mom bursts into tears. Even though she's had years to prepare for this, she's not ready.

Over the following week, you try your best to settle back into life on your family's farm. You help your sister in the fields or help your brother-in-law in your dad's old grocery store. You help watch Evan while your mom makes dinner and join your dad on his morning walks. You naively wished you wouldn't feel the need to drink after coming out here, still stupidly hoping that you only drank because of Hojo, not because you're addicted. Thirst dominates most of your thoughts. You're ashamed to admit to your family how reliant you are on alcohol, though, so you only sneak drinks when no one is looking. You're pretty sure they all know anyways.

The new star you spotted during your trek back to town grows in size every night until your town collectively realizes in horror that it's a meteor. You try calling Matson to see if he has news, but the cell towers in Midgar are overloaded and your call won't go through. The meteor swells until it blots out the sky. Day and night become indistinguishable from each other as the sky takes on a fiery hue. There's nothing anyone can do but wait for impact.

Then **it** happens.

Beacons of beautiful, powerful, protective, and terrifying light explode from the ground and reach towards the heavens. You throw your arms up to protect yourself, but the light shines through your arms and eyelids, blinding your eyes with an awe-inspiring, blistering purity that burns you to the core. You hear wailing and singing, cursing and praying, bitterness and hope, rage and compassion, hate and love. The voices of those who once were and those who will be are united together by an overarching, singular presence that radiates immense sorrow and pain.

It's over as suddenly as it began. The meteor is gone, leaving you and your family in shell-shocked silence. The power goes off and stays off not long after. Without Shinra, there's no one left to operate the mako pumps. Even if Shinra were still around, you think they'd be hard-pressed to find anyone still willing to use mako energy after hearing the cries of the Planet.

Your community, as rural and independent as it is, adapts reasonably well to life without Shinra and mako energy. It's a pain to no longer have electric lighting, but most homes in your town still use wood-burning stoves to cook, gravity-powered rain barrels for water, and root cellars for food storage, so aside from some groaning and griping, people adjust relatively well. Your sister's farm swells as more food is needed to replace the shipments of commodity crops that used to come from the mainland. Her husband can barely get enough food to fully stock the grocery store's shelves. But compared to people who stayed in Midgar, you imagine that your community is surviving comfortably.

You'd say you're surviving comfortably too, except that there's no longer any alcohol to be found. Your brother-in-law's store runs out a week after the meteor vanishes and that's it. There's nothing left and you drive yourself insane thinking about how to get just one more sip. You hear your neighbor is dabbling in making moonshine, but he doesn't have a damn clue what he's doing. Withdrawals set in and manifest as shaking hands, hallucinations, uncontrollable sweating, and a temper so foul you end a family dinner before it even begins. You yell at your brother-in-law in full view of his shop's customers, accusing him of hiding alcohol in the back room away from you. You snap at your dying father and curse at your caring mother. Insomnia keeps you awake for days on end, although whether that's because of the withdrawals or nightmares, you're not sure. When you scream at Evan to the point of making him break down in tears, your sister chews you out real good and threatens to make you sleep in the barn unless you straighten up. Out of spite, you _do_ sleep in the barn for a few nights until your pride wears out. Deep down, you recognize that this forced detox is for the best. Maybe in time, your body will recognize that too.

Your body and mood balance themselves out a week before your father withers and quietly passes in his sleep. The funeral is quiet. Not many people outside your family attend; people have too many other things to grieve right now. You stare at his tombstone and think about the last thing he said to you. _"Thank you for going through hell to grant me a few more years of heaven."_

Does his gratitude make your time suffering under Hojo worth it? You don't know the answer to that question.

There's a need for a doctor in your village, especially after Mideel was destroyed, but you don't act to fill that need, despite your mom's encouragement. White lab coats, syringes, bumps, and bruises bring back too many unwanted memories. You continue to help your sister on the farm instead. It's nice having dirt, rather than blood, under your nails for a change.

Evan instantly forgave you for blowing up at him and has turned into your constant companion in the field. He chatters away about interesting rocks and insects he finds, staring up at you with blue eyes that remind you of someone else. He doesn't understand why you're so quiet with such heavy eyes, but when you're having a really rough day, he'll wrap his arms around your waist ( _when did he get to be so tall?_ ) and stay there while you try to slow your racing heart down.

The work is exhausting, but you relish it, pushing yourself to collapse so you won't have to think about the past. This makes it easy to get to sleep, but staying asleep remains a challenge. You wake up screaming most nights, convinced there's someone leaning over you with a scalpel.

Gossip trickles in from the mainland, distorted and twisted through a long-distance game of telephone. There's talk of a new, deadly disease called geostigma running rampant throughout the continent and a claim that a new government, called the World Regenesis Organization, is forming in the vacuum Shinra left behind. Two years later, you hear rumors that a Bahamut was summoned in a town called Edge that sprang up just outside the Midgar ruins. A year after that, someone pushes the story-telling a little far by absurdly proclaiming there was an uprising of experiments from a secret lab underneath the Shinra Building. You can't help but roll your eyes at that one. If anyone would know about a secret lab, it would be you.

Try as you might to pretend that you've only ever known farming, your seven years working for Hojo cling like mold to your brain. The heaviness you hoped to shrug off after leaving Midgar never goes away. You've gotten off too easy and you know it. Your victims are dead, or worse, and you're out in the country playing farmer. The only thing you think of as much as drinking is killing yourself, but even though you've come up with a hundred different ways to do it, you know you won't follow through. Whether it was on purpose or not, Zack left you your life. You feel like you need to do something with it.

The news that the World Regenesis Organization is recruiting members for its Ethics Department reaches your town. A fire ignites in your chest. You think you finally know what to do with the heaviness you've been carrying.

Evan is crushed when you tell him you're leaving, but he solemnly agrees to care for your houseplant after you're gone. Your sister bemoans the fact that you're leaving right before the busy harvest season, but you know it's just to cover up her worry about you returning to a city. You're the most worried about leaving your mom, but she hugs you tight and whispers in your ear, "I hope this is what heals you."

Travel isn't as easy as it was before Meteor. Halfway there, you realize that you might end up receiving a jail sentence rather than a job, but you don't turn around. What happens will happen. You're tired of hiding from the past. When you eventually make it to Edge, the ruins of Midgar loom in the distance. You can't help but feel another cold shiver of satisfaction when you see the burnt-out husk of the Shinra Building. You stride into the World Regenesis Organization's headquarters and the secretary barely has time to greet you before you blurt out, "I want to join the Ethics Department."

You refuse to leave until you're granted an interview. You're told this is highly unorthodox, but a recruiting officer agrees to meet with you that afternoon. The interview goes sideways when she asks, "Why do you want to join the Ethics Department?"

It all comes spilling out, the beginning, middle, and end. You leave it all in: your willingness to slice into monsters and animals to escape student debt, realizing you were in too deep when you were asked to experiment on humans, becoming trapped when your and your family's lives were threatened, Cloud, Zack, the Nibelheim Survivors, and the fact that you haven't done a single damn thing in your life to even start to make things better. Although you don't defend your actions, you do your best to convey to the recruiter that you truly felt powerless under Hojo. You explain that, more than anything, you want to make sure people like Hojo never gain power again, both for the sake of experiments like Cloud and Zack and for employees like you.

Your throat is dry by the time you're finished speaking. You wish you had water. The interviewer sits slack-jawed in her chair. There's an uncomfortably long silence before she excuses herself into the hall. You're left alone in the conference room, wondering if she's getting the police.

But the police don't walk through the door. It's the leader of the World Regenesis Organization and former Shinra Director of Urban Planning: Reeve Tuesti.

"You worked for Hojo." he says by way of greeting.

You give a slight incline of your head. You don't bother telling him that you've crossed paths in the Shinra Building before.

"My assistant told me what you told her."

You're not sure what to say. Is it normal for the leader of a new government to visit interviewees?

"You've done terrible things."

You nod again.

Reeve considers you. You don't look away.

"I've let terrible things happen too." Reeve finally says. "That's why I will stop at nothing to make things better. Is that what you want? To make things better?"

"More than anything."

Reeve gives you a wry smile. "Welcome to the team."

That evening, you secure a room in a hostel and wander the streets, searching for a place to eat. Restaurants have become somewhat of a rarity since Meteor, but in a populous area like Edge, there are a few scattered around. You ask strangers on the street for recommendations and they unanimously point you towards Seventh Heaven.

Seventh Heaven is housed in a rundown building that's hodgepodged together like the majority of buildings in the city, but it has a certain charm and warmth. Worn linoleum squeaks under your feet as you navigate your way through the packed room in search of an open seat. Every table is full, but there's an empty stool at the end of the bar. You hesitate. You haven't been near a bar in years. But there's nowhere else to sit and you're hungry.

A woman with cinnamon-colored eyes greets you as you take a seat and asks if you'd like a drink. You hurriedly order water before you can think twice. She mercifully doesn't pressure you to get something stronger. You're not sure if you'd be able to refuse. She brings you the water and a food menu. "My name is Tifa. Just let me know when you're ready to order!"

To distract yourself from the wall of tantalizing drinks behind the counter, you closely look over the menu. There's surprisingly a diverse selection to choose from despite food still being a bit scarce. The most shocking item on the menu is a side of applesauce made with Banora Whites.

"How did you get those?" you can't help but ask when Tifa stops by to take your order. Banora Whites became incredibly rare after a massive earthquake devastated the town over a decade ago. They'd been one of your favorite foods as a kid.

"Oh, the apples? We get asked that all the time. There's a grower just outside the Banora ruins who's trying to keep the variety alive."

"And they deliver all the way up here?" you ask. You can't even get Banora Whites in your hometown which is practically neighbors with Banora compared to Edge.

"No, no." Tifa says with a small laugh. "There's someone who runs a delivery service out of the office upstairs. He's made a few trips down to the grower near Banora and the grower likes to tip with applesauce. Would you like some?"

"Oh...um, no, that's alright." Even though you'd love to have a taste of something you haven't had in decades, the cost of the applesauce is prohibitively expensive. "Some fries would be great, though."

But she brings you a small bowl of applesauce along with the fries. She puts a finger against her lips and winks at you when you start to protest. "Our secret, okay?"

The applesauce tastes like childhood and the fries are excellent too, salty and warm. You relax, soaking in the din of cheerful conversation and the clatter of silverware on plates. When was the last time you let yourself enjoy going out like this? You turn in your stool to survey the bar, feeling a surge of affection for everyone else in the room. The past few years have been hard on everyone, yet here you all are. You're all survivors with the will to keep on living. You grab another fry and bring it to your lips…

Then he walks in.

The fry falls from your numb fingers and into your lap.

It's him. TS-3. Cloud Strife.

The kid you cut open, stitched up, and cut open over and over again. The lab rat whose screams still ring in your ears, whose blood you still feel on your hands, whose eyes you still see when you look at Evan. The limp, mako-poisoned body that should have died years ago is here. He's _right here_.

He's a little older and taller than you remember, but there's no mistaking him. Even if he didn't have the same spiky hair or glowing, mako eyes, you'd know him anywhere. There's no forgetting your first human test subject.

He looks good. There's a fullness to his frame and healthy glow to his skin that fear, lack of sunlight, and constant experimentation never allowed in the lab. There's still a tightness in his expression - you imagine he's been through too much to ever lose that look - but there's a lightness in the way he moves. He feels safe here. At home.

The sound of running feet travels above you and down a staircase behind the bar, until two kids, a boy and a girl, pop out at the bottom. They rush over to Cloud, the girl throwing herself around his waist, the boy hanging back and playing it cool until Cloud opens his arm and the boy ducks in for a quick, sideways hug. The kids pepper him with questions that you can only half-hear over the noise of the room.

"-fight any monsters?"

"Did you visit-?"

"I heard that one guy didn't want to pay! Tifa said-"

"-bring anything back?"

With a small smile, Cloud pulls out two boxes from his pocket and hands them to the kids. The girl jumps in delight and a smile spreads over the boy's face. "Thank you, Cloud!" they chorus in unison.

Cloud says something to them in a voice too quiet for you to hear, but the kids nod and scurry back up the stairs, their footsteps eventually fading. He starts moving towards the bar.

Your mind, frozen with the knowledge that not only is Cloud alive, but he's in the same room as you, kicks into overdrive as he approaches. You spin forward and hunch over your plate. There's a mirror behind the bar, though, and you can see his reflection in it. You catch a glimpse of your own startled face. Your hands start to shake.

Cloud unholsters a massive sword and leans it against the counter before sitting down just three seats away from you. Tifa slides him a drink across the counter with a warm smile. "Welcome back!"

Cloud catches the glass. "Thanks.''

His voice is lower than it used to be.

"Did you figure things out with that guy who 'couldn't pay?'"

"Yeah. He miraculously came up with the gil after a little convincing, but I don't think he'll ask me to run deliveries for him again anytime soon."

"His loss. You don't need customers like that."

"No kidding." Cloud takes a sip of the drink and glances around the room. "You've got a crowd tonight."

Tifa answers him, but you're too caught up in your own head to understand her. So Cloud's the person running deliveries out of Seventh Heaven? If you were thinking clearly, you might think that it's fitting for someone who spent years of their life in captivity to now make a living by traveling the world, but you're not thinking clearly. You're on the verge of losing it.

The food in your stomach has turned to acid, the sweet taste of Banora Whites curdling on your tongue. The friendly, warm atmosphere of the restaurant suddenly feels hostile and cold, but you're sweating as though burning up. Your shoulders creep to your ears and your hands clench into fists. You want to disappear. You want to be seen. You want to leave. You want to stay. You want to fold in on yourself and lower your gaze, but you can't drag your eyes away from Cloud's reflection in the mirror. All he needs to do is look up and make eye contact.

Would he recognize you? What will you do if he does? What will _he_ do if he does?

You have a sudden vision of being skewered by that massive sword.

Tifa leaves Cloud to go tend to other customers and his eyes follow her as she moves down the bar. With a jolt of panic, you realize she's coming your way, drawing his gaze closer to you, closer, closer…

You slam all of the gil you have in your pocket onto the counter and stand up so fast that you nearly knock the barstool over. The fry that landed in your lap hits the floor.

"Hey, wait! Are you okay?" Tifa calls after you, but you're already halfway across the room, tripping over people in a desperate attempt to get out before Cloud sees your face. You make it outside, the night air cool on your flushed skin. You pick a random direction and start to walk, not caring where you go as long as it's away. In every scenario you imagined seeing Cloud again, you never imagined one where you ran away.

But, then again, you always have been a coward.

You're halfway down the block when the voice that haunts your nightmares stops you in your tracks.

"Tifa sent me to make sure you're alright."

You can't make yourself turn around and face him, but you also can't bring yourself to move forward. You're frozen. You hear his footsteps draw closer to you. Shivers travel down your spine.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

Words get stuck in your throat, but you manage to force them out anyways. "I'm fine." you lie unconvincingly.

"You left too much money." Cloud says. He's only feet away now. "Tifa won't accept all of it. Here."

You hear the clink of gil as he holds it out to you, waiting for you to turn around and take it.

"It's fine," you say, your voice trembling. "It's for her."

"I told you, she won't take all of it."

You hear his footsteps again; he's circling around you now.

And there he is. Cloud Strife, looking at you dead in the eyes.

How different he is now compared to when he writhed and screamed under your scalpel. You remember a scared teenager, but the man before you is a hardened warrior. He holds out the gil expectantly. You find your eyes drawn to the smooth skin on his forearm. You remember opening that skin to get at the muscle and tendons inside.

Does he carry any physical scars from that time? Or are they all mental?

"Are you going to take it?" he asks, a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

You can only stand there, mute. You glance at the collar of his shirt. You wonder if he's still branded with the Shinra tattoo Hojo gave him.

He goes to take your hand, presumably to shove the gil into it so he can go back to relaxing at Seventh Heaven, but you recoil, your hand twitching towards your belt. You hate that you still have the instinct to reach for a shock remote. A whisper of recognition flickers across his face. Cloud lowers his hand and steps back.

"Do I… do I know you?"

_Yes._

"No." you lie again. You try to move past him. He blocks your path. His eyes burn into yours.

"…I _do_ know you."

"No, you must be mista-"

Your words die on your tongue as Cloud's eyes widen and his face goes slack with shock. His hand grasps for something behind his back. His fingers close on empty air. You think of his sword leaning against the counter back at Seventh Heaven. He leaps backwards, putting more distance between you and him in a single bound than any normal human could.

He eyes you warily from twenty feet away. He appears to have aged ten years in ten seconds, dark lines appearing under his eyes, a haunted expression etching lines onto his face.

"I know you." he repeats, but this time there's no uncertainty in his voice. He knows who you are. "You're…"

"I don't do that anymore." you say, a hard, defensive lump appearing in your throat. You don't know why you said that. It doesn't matter if you don't experiment on humans anymore. It matters that, at one point, _you did._

You unconsciously take a step backwards. Then another. Another. You expect Cloud to throw himself at you and wrap his hands around your throat to finish strangling you like Zack started. But Cloud is backing up too. You see fear in his eyes. Underneath the whirlwind of panic and shame overtaking your mind, a sliver of you wants to laugh at the absurdity of this young, mako-enhanced fighter being afraid of you. He could rip you in half without trying.

But he remembers you. He remembers to fear you.

"I'm sorry." Your throat has decided to work again. You feel your knees weakening, your chest growing tight. The tears are coming. Your apology sounds hollow. "I'm so sorry."

He stares at you like an animal caught in a trap. You stumble backwards a few more steps. You accidentally back into the road. A car lays on its horn. Brakes screech. Cloud doesn't move. You turn. And you run.

A greasy, dense ball of guilt sits in your stomach like lead for the remainder of the night and eats you from the inside out. You can't do anything except sit hunched over with your arms hugging your stomach tight while your nails claw at your sides. You flinch at every sound, expecting Cloud to come find you. You promise yourself that, if he does, this time you won't run.

But he doesn't come. You wonder if it's because he can't find you or if he doesn't want to. After a week of waiting, you decide to leave him a note on Seventh Heaven's doorstep. You drop it off in the early hours of the morning, hoping to not startle him by being seen near his home. _If you ever want to find me…_ the note reads, with your name and new apartment address listed below.

But weeks pass, and you don't see him. The greasy ball of guilt doesn't go away.

Maybe it's for this reason that you pour your mind, body, and what's left of your soul into your new job with the World Regenesis Organization. If Cloud is unwilling to give you the punishment you deserve, then you'll try to earn retribution on your own. You begin work before dawn and stay until after dusk, working weekends, holidays, and through your lunch breaks. Your coworkers are just as dedicated to their jobs as you are. They're also ex-Shinra, and although you rarely discuss your lives from before, their drive to improve the world makes you believe they also have pasts they're trying to atone for. If there's something good that came from Shinra, it's that the company left behind a population of embittered and disillusioned people who are now dedicating their lives to making things right.

A year passes. You think you spot Cloud leaving the World Regenesis Organization's headquarters once, but he's gone before you can be sure. You think about stopping by Seventh Heaven again, but stay away when you recognize that you want to go for your own closure, not Cloud's benefit. You don't want to make things worse than they already are.

At the end of the year, the World Regenesis Organization prepares for its annual address to the public. Reeve asks if you'd be willing to speak on behalf of the Ethics Department. You decline. He asks again. You say no. He asks one more time. You ask him why it has to be you.

"Because there aren't many others who understand why this department is needed as intimately as you do."

You agree to give the talk.

Every seat and standing space in the conference room is taken. You're sweating and regretting ever agreeing to Reeve's request. Public speaking really isn't your thing, but the hypocrisy of _you_ of all people speaking on behalf of the Ethics Department is what really eats at you. If this crowd knew a fraction of what you have done…

Yet, Reeve sees potential in you. He casts you a sideways glance before he stands to speak. You nod at him. You're ready.

Reeve's introduction is somber, uplifting, reflective, and inspiring all at once. He praises the resilience of the Planet and her people and elevates the vast progress the World Regenesis Organization has made in the past year. Edge is growing steadily, supported by reasonable public security initiatives, alternative energy sources, and a rapidly growing network of young entrepreneurs, ready to push this new world into its next phase. After Reeve is finished speaking, each department stands and gives an update. Urban planning, agriculture, public safety, energy… You rub your sweaty palms on your pants and focus on the texture beneath your palms to settle your nerves. It's finally your turn. As you stand and take your place behind the microphone, you make the mistake of scanning the crowd. Your eyes land on Cloud Strife.

He's lingering in the back near the door, appearing to be ready to bolt if needed. His hand rests on the hilt of his sword, casually enough to appear accidental, but you know better. His eyes bore into yours, glowing in the dim light of the room. Your breath catches in your throat. Everything else in the room disappears except him. Your speech, which you endlessly rehearsed in front of your shabby, apartment mirror, is forgotten. How could you stand up here and pretend you know about ethics and morality when one of your victims is staring you in the face?

Someone touches your shoulder. You flinch violently and turn around. It's Reeve.

"Are you okay?" he asks quietly.

 _No_ , you want to say, but you swallow and nod your head yes. There are hundreds of other eyes waiting for you to speak, even if it feels like it's only Cloud in the room. You shuffle your notecards in your hands to buy you a few more seconds to recover. The audience shifts anxiously in their seats, made uncomfortable by the long silence. Cloud's eyes are locked onto yours.

He's expecting something from you, you can tell. You stare at your notecards. Is what he wants written in here? There's no apology in the world that will right past wrongs. There's nothing you can do or say that will take away the pain you caused.

You begin speaking. Your voice is quiet and robotic, and the audience has to lean forward to catch your words. You can't drag your eyes from Cloud. You recount the past year of work the Ethics Department has accomplished. His expression is as hard as steel. You can't tell what he's thinking. Does he approve of your department's past actions? Does he think you're doing enough?

But maybe...maybe he's not here to ask you to fix the past. Maybe he's here to hold you accountable to creating a better future.

You move onto outlining your department's goals.

You promise a future which is free from corruption, where no entity shall ever become so powerful that it can treat people as expendable, where the basic rights of everyone are placed before corporate gain. You outline your department's strategies for battling corruption, maintaining transparency, and ensuring accountability. As you speak, you wonder where you would be now if these systems had been in place to protect you. You wonder where Cloud would be if they had been in place to protect him.

"As we work together to continue rebuilding our world, the Ethics Department is here to ensure that there will never again be a place for those who use their power to harm." you say, your voice growing stronger. Your anxiety drains away and the fire in your chest that drove you to the World Regenesis Organization reignites. "We are here to serve as a shield between you and any organization that thinks it can use you to satisfy its own gain through coercion, bribery, or threat. If you have a concern, we are here to listen. If you fear retaliation, we are here to protect. We promise to work alongside you, the people of this Planet, to continue integrating the highest degree of fairness, honesty, and accountability into every level of our society. We promise to cultivate a society that is just and fair. We promise to be here for you.

"I know there is nothing I can do to change what was," Your voice trembles as it always does when you get to this part. But Cloud doesn't need your tears, so you blink them away and push on. "But I guarantee that I will remember every instance of corruption, blackmail, and suffering and use them as powerful reminders of why ethics are necessary in the rebirth of our world. Memories of my silence and complicity and the shame they led me to will forever bind me to this work, and I will spend my life working to build a system that protects everyone, no matter the cost."

Cloud's eyes glitter. He slowly gives you a single nod.

In that nod, you see that you're not forgiven. You know there is no forgiveness for what you did. In that nod, you see that Cloud is willing to give you a chance to do better, to turn your past sins into something good. In that nod, you see that, should your commitment ever waver, you will have him to answer to.

You hold his gaze and speak the final lines of your speech entirely to him.

"I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it! Stitches, which was supposed to be a one-shot, wraps up at over 60k words. This is the first long fic I've ever finished and I can't tell you how good that feels to me. I've had "write a long fanfic" on my goals list for years and it feels amazing to finally cross that off. This epilogue (which was supposed to be only 2k words) was rewritten multiple times and grew to around 9k words. I would like to extend a huge THANK YOU to Capt-BA who checked for typos, helped me beef up the ending paragraphs, and cheered me on when I wanted to give up. If it weren't for Capt-BA, I don't think I would have ever finished the epilogue.
> 
> Thanks so much to you all for giving this fic a chance despite its unorthodox perspective and present-tense narrative. I've appreciated hearing from every single one of you. Thanks for taking the time to read this.
> 
> If you're up to it, let me know how you picture the protagonist! I purposefully have avoided describing any physical aspects of the protagonist. I wanted you, the readers, to decide. It's been fascinating for me to read some of you use he or she pronouns when referring to the protagonist. I love getting glimpses into your minds of who you picture the protagonist to be! There are no right or wrong ideas. However you imagine the protagonist is correct!
> 
> Here's a list of music I listened to while writing this fic, in case you're interested. It's mostly atmospheric and really helped me feel the heavy, hopeless atmosphere I was going for during the fic. 
> 
> https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Tzvy-ZB7yc46QYWlpkCX0UCq6kVFck0PM1BO1Bt7wRo/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> Finally, in case you're curious, the word "you" was used roughly 3,250 times during this fic. :) Gotta love second person POV, amiright?
> 
> Thanks for everything!
> 
> \- SlaughterOtter


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